A New Life
by Nimue Tucker
Summary: Book Two of the Peacemaker Chronicles. Spike has died. Buffy is left to cope with the emotional fall out. Not to mention a child...
1. The Numbers Game

Book Two - A New Life  
  
Title: The Numbers Game  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Feedback: Yes, please.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Inc.  
  
Summary: This book is the sequel to the Twist on NA series. The beginning of a new arc, or a new season. Basically, I operated on the assumption that the NA series ended with the end of S6 and this picks up at the beginning of S7. They are not really separate entities, but rather a continuation after a duration of time.  
  
The Numbers Game  
  
It was a beautiful night. She could see every star, every moonbeam, every point of light in the late summer sky. She walked slowly, heavily along the path, remembering the steps. There were precisely 442 footfalls from her house to the gates of the cemetery. 62 from the main road to the footpath. 18 from the path to his door. The last 18 were always the longest. 18 steps.  
  
Buffy knocked on the door of the crypt. No answer. She knocked again.  
  
Still silence. Quietly, she let herself in, lighting a candle by the door and taking it with her. Candle was wasting away. Maybe time to get a new one.  
  
"You should learn to use candles in foreplay." She heard his voice. Buffy wheeled around, but it was silent again. The voice was inside her head.  
  
"Spike?" she called out tentatively. No answer. She walked along the wall, trailing her fingers on the cold stone. Walking the perimeter of the upper level. "Spike?" she called again. Nothing.  
  
Buffy walked both levels, her hand connecting with the stone. She could  
  
feel him here. She felt him everywhere. The walls, the doors, the bed, the moon, the clouds, the streets, the alleys, the trees, the bushes and most of all, growing inside of her. A neat little package of comfort and torture.  
  
She finished her rounds. Nothing but stone and furniture and half-burnt  
  
candles. Slowly, she made her way to the bed and sat on the edge, staring at the flickers of the candle flame. The shadows on the wall. "Guess you aren't home," she whispered, setting the candle on the table next to the bed.  
  
There was a pad and pen sitting where the candle now rested. She lifted the pad, turning it in her hands. Fingering the pen like the blade of a sword. Buffy sat the tablet in her lap and ran the pen across the paper, just high enough that the nib did not touch.  
  
"You're a tease, Love." His voice again. Still she spun, searching the  
  
room. But it was only in her head.  
  
Buffy steadied herself, then dropped the point to the paper.  
  
I love you, Spike.  
  
She had written it 94 times. Every night since the schoolyard. Every night she came to the crypt, running her hands along the stone. Checking to see if this was all just a nightmare. Finding out that it was not.  
  
The first night was blurred with panic and fear. She remembered being sick. Rocking in the grass. Forcing herself to *say the words* to Dawn even though she had not believed them herself.  
  
He's gone.  
  
She had bolted from the schoolyard, outrunning herself, chugging on weak and wounded legs to the cemetery. To the crypt. Thinking he'd just gone home.  
  
Maybe he had.  
  
But not this home.  
  
She had walked the walls, calling his name, but he wouldn't answer. She was so angry. He promised he would never leave! She had torn the place apart, but he never showed.  
  
That was the night she discovered the tablet. Only one page had been used. The poem he had told her he had written in Africa. Murderers and Saviors we were. Every night. She cried as she read it. She cried when she was through. It occurred to her that in all the time she had known him, she had managed to admit to almost everyone that she loved the Vampire. But she had never said it to him. Now she would never say it.  
  
I love you, Spike.  
  
She had written it 94 times. 94 nights. 94 lifetimes.  
  
And she would write it every night.  
  
Buffy eased her tired body onto the bed, curling up in the sheets. Curling up inside of herself. It was safer there. There they were together. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes.  
  
'You know I love you, right?'  
  
'Yes'  
  
'I'll always be with you'  
  
'I'm glad. I don't ever want to be without you.'  
  
Damn my pride, she thought. I could've just said it. I meant it all along. I had known I meant it since Glory. Damn my stupid pride.  
  
'You know I love you, right?'  
  
'Yes. I love you too.'  
  
How hard would that have been?  
  
Buffy squeezed her eyes tighter, willing herself someplace else.... On the couch. He was pressed against her. Basking in the afterglow, as he liked to say. When he told her that he heard their heartbeats and it sounded like rain. Her heart had nearly burst with happiness. Not that she said anything.  
  
Did he even know?  
  
Kate Bush song played over and over inside her mind.  
  
"All the things I should've said that I never said.  
  
All the things I should've done though I never did  
  
All the things that you needed from me.  
  
All the things that you wanted for me.  
  
Oh, darling, make it go..."  
  
She lay there quietly every night. 94 nights running.  
  
What wouldn't I do to go back?, she thought.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Just to say it.  
  
He deserved that.  
  
*****  
  
"Buffy?" Her eyes popped open. It was dark and cold. A candle flickered to life in the doorway.  
  
"Dawn?" she answered. Buffy hoisted her body up onto her elbows. Eight months and counting. There was no denying it now.  
  
"Thought you might be here," the girls said, crossing the room to the bed. She perched on the edge next to her sister.  
  
"Must have fallen asleep," Buffy replied, lifting her hand to rub her eyes and immediately flopping back to the pillows. Slayer abs were not going to be enough to hold her up now. "Ugh," she grunted, stretching out.  
  
"Doing OK?" Dawn asked, rubbing her sister's calves. Buffy purred in  
  
response.  
  
"Considering the wiggly heavy thing that has taken up residence in my belly and the fact that it never stops tap dancing, I'm fine," Buffy responded, her hands planted on the bulge in her abdomen. She was being kicked nearly constantly now. What did she expect considering the parents?  
  
"Angry baby?" Dawn asked, rubbing Buffy's belly and getting an invisible  
  
foot to the palm.  
  
"Very cranky," Buffy answered.  
  
They were quiet for a long time. Buffy knew that Dawn felt him there too. Sensed him everywhere.  
  
"You miss him a lot, don't you Buffy?" Dawn asked. Seemed like the  
  
understatement of the century.  
  
"Yeah," Buffy whispered, feeling the hot tears welling in the backs of her eyes. She willed them back, but a few strays escaped. Dawn brushed them off Buffy's cheeks.  
  
"Come on, Moby Dick," Dawn chided, "time to go home." She pulled Buffy  
  
upright and onto her feet. Buffy tried to think of a clever comeback, but she felt like the great white whale today.  
  
They padded through the crypt hand in hand. At the door, Buffy stopped,  
  
looking around again. "I am home," she whispered to the air. The door  
  
closed softly behind her.  
  
To be contd. 


	2. La Maison Rouge

Title: La Maison Rouge  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy etc... Just borrowing.  
  
Summary: Spike is gone, but where did he go?  
  
La Maison Rouge  
  
  
  
The last thing he remembered was seeing her face.  
  
She wasn't supposed to be there. She wasn't supposed to be in danger everagain. At least not while he was around. That plan didn't pan out. 'The best laid plans of mice and men,' he thought.  
  
She shouldn't have seen him draining Willow. That's burned into her mind now. One step forward, ten steps back. 'I hope I didn't kill the girl', he thought. Not only because of Buffy, but because he knew the power of grief and rage. Couldn't really say he wouldn't have done the same thing.  
  
The redness had closed in and blocked his vision. Didn't matter. He still saw her face. 'Cept now it was her peeking over the back of the couch, locking eyes with him. 'She never did *say she loved me,' he thought. He knew.  
  
"I love you, Spike," Her voice was rhapsody. He turned in the red haze and saw her sitting on the edge of their bed, writing. She was crying. Then it clicked off like someone hit the off button on a remote. Back to red haze.  
  
Spike floated in the redness forever. Monotonous, eye-glazing redness. It was not a pleasant, cloud like float either. More like a canoe in a lava sea during an earthquake. His skin stung from it. His eyes burned. The taste of blackness stuck in his mouth. Funny, he wasn't sure he would've noticed it had he not tasted the sweetness of her lips.  
  
He was jolted, then plummeted downward, hitting the ground with a thunderous thud. "Bloody hell," he uttered, rubbing the back of his head where it had met with a rock. Slowly, he pulled himself up, sitting on the soil, and looked around. Acres and acres of rocks. Red and grey. Every shape and size. "Not one for the bleeding scenery," he said, standing and taking a few awkward steps forward.  
  
Then he noticed it. The faces emerging in the rock. Screaming, animate  
  
visages, banging against the stone. Spike jumped back, trying to avoid the captured spirits, but they were everywhere. Acres and acres of screaming bloody rocks.  
  
He gathered himself, cutting out the noise, replacing it with the patter of rain in his mind. He laughed at himself. Five years ago, the screams would have been music, a symphony, to his ears. Now the sound of her heartbeat, their heartbeats, quieted his spinning mind. "Lousy sodding demon I am."  
  
"I love you, Spike." He heard it again. Her voice. He knew her every  
  
utterance from agony to ecstasy. It was her. He wheeled around, staring at the rocks.  
  
"Please don't be here," he whispered to himself, frantically scanning the screaming faces. But she wasn't there. He glimpsed her on the edge of the bed again, writing. Then she was gone.  
  
"Torture, is it?" He screamed at the air. "That what this lot's about?  
  
Penance?"  
  
"Not exactly," a well dressed man answered. Cute when Buffy was snarky, but not when some stranger appearing from thin air in a Calvin Klein suit and cowboy boots tries it.  
  
"Who the bloody hell are you?" Spike asked, searching his jacket for a  
  
cigarette. None.  
  
"Looking for these?" the man asked, crushing the pack in his palm. "Sorry *William*, guess you quit."  
  
"How the hell do you know my name?" Spike asked, a mixture of anger and  
  
confusion flitting across his face.  
  
"William, *baby*, we're almost family," the man exclaimed, wrapping his arm around Spike's shoulder. Spike hastily disentangled himself from the hold. " I started the whole vamp movement. Well, it was supposed to be a prank, but kinda grew on me, so it became a *movement*. You get the picture."  
  
"Bloody well don't," Spike snarled.  
  
"Name is Mephistopheles. Most people call me Luke. But you can call me  
  
whatever you like, " the man stated, holding out his hand. Spike brushed the gesture off. "Well, we *were* family," the man continued, swiping his hands on his pants, "but I forgot, you're the 'black sheep'". He gestured those annoying quotation marks in the air.  
  
"Walk with me, Willie," Luke said, beginning to stroll forward. Spike  
  
reluctantly followed. "There was a time, not so long ago, when you would've liked this place. Lots of brawls and torture and bloodshed. You know, fun stuff. Never quite as perfect for it as Angelus and *whoa*, that Darla. She was a babe...."  
  
"The point, perhaps?" Spike interrupted, attempting to avoid treading on as many screaming faces as possible.  
  
"'The Point'," Luke said, again with the air quotes, "is that at one time, you would've been very happy at La Maison Rouge," He gestured and an enormous red mansion appeared in front of them as quickly and oddly as Luke himself had appeared. "But now you've gone all soft, Willie."  
  
"I'm hardly soft," Spike replied with indignation, trying to puff his chest out.  
  
"Oh, *please*, Willie. Poetry. Love. Little blonde mortal enemies to whose every whim you cater? Bouncy toe headed babies in little pink onesies and pushing prams in the harsh light of day?"  
  
"Wait a bloody minute, " Spike angrily retorted, "There are no.... What the hell is a onesie? And I'm a vampire. Burst into flames and the like," he gushed.  
  
"May have gotten a little ahead of myself there but you get the picture. So now, what would've been... well.... Heaven... to you, is now your hell."  
  
"I'm not following, mate?" Spike questioned, baffled by the man's constant spiral of logic.  
  
"Do I have to spell it out?" Luke whined, grabbing Spike by the neck and  
  
tossing him what Spike thought to be a good thirty yards to the steps of the manor house. "You're a traitor to your breed, man. A sell out. Nobility? Love? Fatherhood? *Please*. You're a pansy."  
  
"I'm no sodding pansy," Spike huffed, standing up and running at the man.  
  
"And I'm not evil," Luke replied, eyes glaring a piercing ruby red. Spike stopped in his tracks. "Anyway," the man continued, back to his normal human face, normal brown eyes, "I'm the resident hell god around here and, well, we can't have nancy boy formally evil vampires running all willy nilly around my perfectly nasty dimension. So," he continued," gonna hafta lock you up."  
  
Next thing Spike knew, he was chained to a stone wall in what looked to be the basement. Luke appeared in front of him with a flash.  
  
"What? Can't even plead my case?" Spike complained.  
  
"I love you, Spike". He heard her again. Instinctively he spun his head at the sound of her voice, searching for her.  
  
"Case closed," Luke said with disgust, snapping himself out of the room.  
  
To be contd. 


	3. Revelations

Title: Revelations (part 3 - New Life)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG - 13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.. Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Willow reappears at the magic box and tries to begin to patch  
  
things up with her friends. But the news she gives them ends up hurting  
  
them more.  
  
Revelations  
  
"Hey, it's Buff Plus," Xander joked as Buffy strolled into the Magic Box  
  
with a little jingle of the door.  
  
Buffy smirked in reply. "Go on, make with the funnies while I can't wipe the floor with you."  
  
"Cranky today, are we?" Xander laughed, pulling out a chair and helping  
  
Buffy get comfortable.  
  
"I think you look beautiful," Tara said, smiling serenely.  
  
"Thanks Tara, but we all know the truth," Buffy retorted, squinching her  
  
face and smiling back at her. "Just time to get the little monster out."  
  
"Um, someone please note that it was *not* me that called it a monster,"  
  
Xander said, raising his hand and looking around the room.  
  
"Didn't mean it like *that*," Buffy answered, smacking Xander in the  
  
shoulder and erupting into giggles. "So, tell me what I missed on patrol last night. Let me live vicariously."  
  
"Not very much, Buffy," Giles said, trying to sound consoling, "Few  
  
fledgling vampires..." He was sliding books onto the shelves in front of  
  
her.  
  
"What about the battle with the Janx demon?" Anya exclaimed, wide eyed.  
  
Xander and Giles both shot her an evil glance.  
  
"You got a battle!" Buffy whined "With a Janx demon? Oh, man, no fair." She was in full pout mode now. "What's a Janx demon?"  
  
"Big, snotty, slow, easy to kill. Didn't miss much," Xander replied,  
  
patting her shoulder.  
  
The door jingled open again. Willow made her way through the late afternoon sunshine and into their safe haven.  
  
Nothing had been even remotely the same since the playground. Once any of them recovered enough to even speak to the girl, they found that Willow had no recollection of any of it. Seems that those shiny memories were either with Rack or Spike. Willow had been in the hospital for a week, then had admitted herself to a psychiatric ward for over a month after that. While she was there, she had tried to kill herself. Some demented thought that maybe her death would bring back what she had apparently taken. Buffy wished she would get over the bringing back fixation.  
  
Willow still went to the hospital every day. She was spending her nights with her parents. No one could bear to look upon her long enough to let her stay.  
  
Xander and Giles both stood as Willow approached, moving instinctively  
  
closer to Buffy. All of them were.... Trying..... to work through this.  
  
Buffy was having the hardest time. To her, it had not been just Warren  
  
Willow had killed, but Spike.  
  
"Hi," Xander finally choked out.  
  
"Hi," Willow responded sullenly, waving like a child.  
  
It was too awkward. They had all seen her since... that night... but no one ever knew what to say. It helped very little that they had discovered that Warren had been a demon, or at least part demon, when Willow and Rack had killed him. Mostly because Willow had not known. She thought him human and killed him anyway. The rest of them only discovered this when Warren had melted into a pool of sickly goo not long after Buffy had fled the scene.  
  
Buffy had tried to forgive Willow. If anyone should, Buffy felt it was her duty to try. The Slayer was guilty of killing in the name of those she loved. She was even guilty of torture. Still, every time that Buffy got close to the point that she *might* look Willow in the eyes again, she ran into a brick wall. If Willow had never gone to Rack, if Rack had never taken Willow's hurt and anger and twisted it into murder, Spike would not have...gone.  
  
Giles had spent quite a bit of time with the girl, despite the fact that she had given him a fractured skull and broken clavicle. He was the one who had told Willow everything. Every detail, so she understood fully that dark magic had it's price and that everyone paid the toll.  
  
They had all paid dearly that night.  
  
"Uh, what brings you by Willow?" Giles stuttered, standing between Willow and the chair in which Buffy was parked. He did not know why, but he felt an urgent responsibility to protect his Slayer again.  
  
"I...I need to talk to Buffy, " Willow croaked, trying not to cry.  
  
"I'm not sure if that's a good idea," Xander replied. "All emotional and stuff."  
  
"Hello, right here," Buffy said, waving her hand. "What is it, Willow?" She was measuring her voice again. Trying to be non-committal in tone. Not to show the anger or the fear or the need to forgive.  
  
"I....I think we should talk in private," Willow answered.  
  
"NO!" Giles and Xander both answered in unison. They did not trust Willow. Neither of them was sure that they ever would. Frankly, they didn't trust Buffy's ability to handle private conversation with the woman who was responsible for her lover's death either. Buffy was the Slayer. She was equally likely to come out with either a nervous breakdown or with a very bruised Willow.  
  
"It's...personal," Willow said, fighting hard against the tears. Despite all that Tara had been through at her former lover's hands, she stood, walking to Willow, resting a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"You can say it in front of all of us, Willow," Tara said in that soothing, serene voice. "It's best that way." Willow just nodded, walking toward the table. They all quietly sat in awkward silence.  
  
"First of all," Willow began, the tears now streaming down her cheeks, " I need to say how sorry..." She was choking on the words. "How sorry I am for everything." No one could look at her. Willow was shaking, fidgeting, crying. Forgiveness was never easy. "I know that I've said it a hundred times and it really doesn't mean much," the girl continued, her fingers flickering across the sleeve of her shirt. The deep crimson scars were still livid on her wrists.  
  
Tara put a hand on Willow's shoulder and the small quiet girl broke down. Buffy had to turn away. She couldn't bear the feelings of wanting to comfort and wanting to smack coming down on her at the same time. She had to try. This wasn't good for any of them.  
  
"Willow?" Giles asked softly, " What did you come for, exactly?"  
  
"I was trying to get there," Willow answered, flashing a nervous smile. " I know I can never take back what ...I ...did..."  
  
"You and Rack," Xander corrected.  
  
"What *I* did," Willow continued. "All I can do is try and make things  
  
right."  
  
"I don't like where this is going," Buffy commented flatly. Willow's eyes were huge.  
  
"Buffy, I..."  
  
"I think that you've done enough with the 'making-things-right-playing-God' bit," Buffy snapped. "Things happen. We die. We should stay dead." It sounded odd coming from her lips. Almost hypocritical.  
  
"No, Buffy," Willow erupted nervously, "no..no..no magic."  
  
"Then what?" Buffy said, metering her voice again. Removing the anger and the fear.  
  
"I ... need to do good things. Positive things. Help people. It's the  
  
only way for me to make a dent in my debt...."  
  
"What sort of good things, Will?" Xander asked. None of them were ready to have her back working with them.  
  
" I just want to help."  
  
" I think it's a little premature, Willow," Giles said reasonably, fiddling with his glasses.  
  
" I know.". The tears rolled steadily down her cheeks. " I will never  
  
expect you to trust me again. How can I?" Willow said sullenly, staring down at the table, tears plopping onto the wood. Buffy swallowed hard and looked away. She had always trusted Willow. With everything. Until Willow made the fatal decision of raising Buffy. It was different after that. "But I have some things to tell you. Important things."  
  
"Like what, Willow?" Tara asked, trying to be understanding, even  
  
encouraging.  
  
"This is the personal part," Willow answered, a nervous giggle escaping her lips.  
  
"If it's important, we all need to know," Buffy said, trying to look at her. Trying not to turn away from the girl who used to be her best friend.  
  
"I... I've had a lot of free time," Willow began, " and I've been doing some research. Old school. Books and the internet and stuff. And Buffy, there is a precedent for what is happening with you."  
  
"What?" Giles exclaimed, nearly falling out of his seat.  
  
"There is an account in the Tarangi texts, the ancient African ones, about how Slayer physiology is slightly different than other human beings."  
  
"Like the super strength," Anya interjected.  
  
"Right," Willow answered. "The very thing that gives the Slayer super  
  
strength and super healing also has other consequences."  
  
"What are you getting at, Will?" Xander asked.  
  
"It's like the cells of their bodies move faster, generate more energy, get hot. Like an engine heating. And that energy has the ability to heat up, revive, what should be dead."  
  
"Now you tell me," Buffy commented, leaning back.  
  
"That's not the important part," Willow replied, fidgeting again. "In the texts, there were two separate accounts of slayers that were impregnated by vampires."  
  
"Two?!" Giles responded, wide eyed. "How could I have missed this?"  
  
"Please," Willow interrupted. " I can show you later. In both cases,  
  
things didn't.. turn out well."  
  
"What do you mean?" Xander said slowly. Buffy's face was white.  
  
"In the first account, the child was still born and the slayer was depleted of her powers, either by the trauma or some physical glitch."  
  
"And the other?" Buffy asked, feeling the terror rise within her.  
  
"Both the child and the Slayer died," Willow responded quietly, looking down at the tabletop.  
  
Buffy exploded inside. Shattered. She had let Spike die without ever  
  
telling him that she loved him. Since that moment, she had held onto the thought that she could make it up to him in some small way by telling the piece of him that she had left that she loved her, that she loved her father, every day. But now... now that was gone too. Buffy wanted to storm out, to run, but weakened legs trapped her. The tears began to slide from the corners of her eyes.  
  
"There must be something." Giles muttered, trying to touch Buffy's hand.  
  
Buffy pulled away violently, crawling back inside herself. Scrambling for safety.  
  
"There is, I think," Willow said softly, "but it does involve magic. I  
  
found a protection spell..."  
  
"No, no," Xander chanted, shaking his head.  
  
"Tara can do it...or..or Giles. It's a protection spell. Good magic."  
  
"What are the chances it would work?" Buffy asked solemnly.  
  
"Fifty fifty," Willow responded, dejected. "But it's better than the odds without it."  
  
Buffy was silent for a long moment. "Giles, can you look into this?" Buffy asked, trying to remain composed while feeling like she was running on a treadmill that was going *way* too fast.  
  
"Of course," he answered with a swipe of the glasses. "I'll find  
  
something."  
  
"Is that all, Willow?" Buffy queried, turning her face back to the broken girl. A series of emotions played on the Slayer's face. Anger, resentment, most of all, fear.  
  
"No," Willow whispered. Buffy's heart sank.  
  
" I think that's enough for now," Xander commented, looking over at Buffy. She was ghostly pale; her arms crossed protectively over her stomach, tears streaming down her face.  
  
"No," Buffy said, "What is it?"  
  
"It's Spike," the girl said," he's not dead."  
  
To be contd. 


	4. Fireflies

Title: Fireflies (part 4 - New Life)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG - 13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.. Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Willow has just dropped two bombs on the remaining Scoobies. Bombs that could change everything, if they chose to let them....  
  
  
  
Fireflies  
  
  
  
All of them were completely silent. The air was thick and Buffy could  
  
barely breathe. Of course he was dead. She watched him disappear. Poof. There were no ashes, but Spike was no normal vampire. She just thought that the difference was in the man. He faded away. That was the easiest way for her to remember it. Not the look on his face. Not the awful red glow that seemed to dissolve him. Not her desperate run to try and grab him from the abyss. Spike just was there and then ...gone.  
  
"Wha..what do you mean, Willow?" Tara said. No one thought it had been  
  
possible, but Buffy's face turned one shade whiter. Giles put his hand on her shoulder to steady her. It really looked as if the girl might pass out.  
  
"Anya, could you get some water, please, quickly? " Giles said as Buffy  
  
became obviously overwhelmed and grabbed the arms of the chair. This was too much. Far too much. Anya scurried from the chair to the back room as quickly as possible, coming back with a tumbler almost brimming over. Buffy took an enormous drink and seemed to settle just a little.  
  
"Willow," Buffy asked. "What are you talking about? I saw it happen. so did Xander. With our own eyes."  
  
"I know, Buffy. But I felt it."  
  
Buffy was silent. In some strange way, she felt jealous that it was with Willow that Spike had been so intimately connected with when he died. It was intimacy, in its own way. Feeding was a sensual thing. Pleasure. The most intimate thing in a vampire's existence, except for maybe making love. Or doing both at once. It shocked Buffy that she understood so much about Spike now that he was gone.  
  
"What, exactly, did you feel?" Xander asked, obviously dubious of Willow's revelation.  
  
"You have to understand something about Rack, about how he works, to really get this," Willow said. "Rack was more of a conduit than a warlock. He drew power from other sources, dark sources, and channeled it into himself, or, in the case of that night, into both of us. "  
  
"Many supposed warlocks are truly conduits for multiple power sources,"  
  
Giles contributed. "The more sources, the better."  
  
"Right," Willow agreed. "Rack was one of the best of them. He could draw power from both the white and black magics and turn them into whatever he wanted them to be. Also, he was not limited in drawing from sources in this dimension."  
  
"He was a cross dimensional conduit?" Giles gasped.  
  
"In English, please." Xander said, frustrated with the conversation.  
  
"He was able to not only draw from the magic and innate properties of items in this dimension, but he could also reach into other dimensions and draw power from people and objects there." Tara said to Xander.  
  
"Oh," Xander said, still obviously lost.  
  
"That night, Rack was drawing power from our dimension and one other. I  
  
could feel it. It was completely alien to me. Darker than anything I have ever dealt with on this plane. It was like... acid in my blood." Willow said, shuddering at the thought. A look of understanding finally came over Giles' face. He saw where Willow was taking them. She might just be right.  
  
"What does this have to do with Spike?" Buffy asked, still clutching white knuckled at the arms of the chair.  
  
"He didn't *die*. When he drained Willow, took the darkness from her, the dark powers of this dimension stayed with Rack. As a human, it was too much for him, and he died. Spike must have absorbed the power from the other dimension, and ..." Giles formulated.  
  
"And he got sucked there with it," Anya continued in her less than tactful, but correct, manner.  
  
"This is ridiculous." Buffy said, now flushed with confusion. "He's not living it up in some other dimension while we're still..." Buffy stopped. She had not meant it the way it came out, but as she said it, she thought... maybe he did not want to come back. Maybe he was happy where he was, like she had been.  
  
"Buffy, I don't think it's like that." Willow said in response.  
  
"Well, you don't have a very good track record with that," Buffy snapped. The words bit her almost as hard as they bit Willow. "I'm sorry, Will." She amended.  
  
"I deserved it."  
  
"No, you didn't" Buffy said. "This is just all.. a lot."  
  
"I know. I don't think it is like that though, Buffy. He did not have a choice in the matter. When he connected with it, when he drained it, it took him against his will. I felt him fighting, Buffy. But that much  
  
magic... you saw what it could do."  
  
Buffy nodded. It was some consolation that he had not chose to leave.  
  
Still, he wasn't there and that was the bottom line wasn't it? Maybe he was alive, somewhere, but not here.  
  
"Do you know from which dimensions Rack was drawing power?" Giles asked.  
  
"I'm not sure," Willow answered. Buffy's heart sank again. "But I think I can figure it out."  
  
"How?" Xander asked.  
  
"It's complicated. Oh, and non-magical. But I think I can do it."  
  
"Can I help?" Anya asked. "I'd like to find Spike again and I've been to several dimensions. I might have been there before."  
  
"Sure," Willow answered. "That is if Buffy wants us to look."  
  
Buffy was quiet. What if he was happy there? "Would he have a choice to come back, if we find him?"  
  
"I suppose it would depend on where we find him, and how we chose to get him back," Giles answered for Willow.  
  
Buffy swallowed hard. She wasn't sure how much she meant of what she was about to say, but she knew it was right. "I do not want him back here unless it is his choice. No matter where he is. OK?"  
  
"Ok," Willow answered.  
  
" I need to get out of here," Buffy said, pushing herself to her feet.  
  
"I'll come with you," Xander said, hopping up.  
  
"I'd really rather be alone." Buffy softly smiled back at her friend. He sat back down, knowing there was no arguing with her. " Giles, can you pick Dawn up at the mall at 7 and take her home? I'll be back later."  
  
"Sure," Giles answered, not knowing what else to say to her.  
  
With that, Buffy made her way out into the evening.  
  
*****  
  
Tara, Anya and Willow sat in a circle on the floor, the candle flickering softly in the center. They had made Anya swear to silence. Her duty was only to listen and try and figure out if she knew anything at all about the place they hoped to find.  
  
Willow insisted on being the traveler. In her mind, Spike was lost because of her. She knew it was dangerous, but something in her had to do it. Giles had given them an herb. One that would help them to move between dimensions, but he had warned them of the herb's power. Willow was insistent.  
  
Tara was the anchor. She was to try and keep Willow connected to the land of the living. Or at least *this* land of the living. Tara knew it would be hard to connect with Willow again after everything that had happened, but this was bigger than the both of them.  
  
Willow drank the herbal infusion and her face squinched from the taste.  
  
Tara held out her hands, the candle between her forearms and Willow took  
  
them softly, handling them like porcelain. They connected with a spark, a shock that melted them both. Their eyes connected, then Willow's softly closed. "Take me to Spike," she whispered to the air.  
  
The red headed witch found herself suddenly back on the playground. Visions sped around her from all sides, whipping her skin, hurting her eyes. It seemed everything was moving one hundred times normal speed except for her. Like someone had hit fast forward on a remote control. Willow felt a sharp, almost blinding pain in her neck and her head fell back like a rag doll. She felt his fangs buried in her shoulder and could see a flash of his hair from the corner of her eye. "Spike," she groaned, "take me with you."  
  
The pain was gone. The playground - gone. Everything was red. She felt herself slide out of her skin until all that was left was a tiny ball of light. Still, she could hear Tara's voice in her mind speaking softly, grounding her. She fell steadily like Alice in the rabbit hole.  
  
Suddenly, all the red was gone, and the world began to speed past, only this time she was speeding along with it like dust in a tornado. Blurred pictures sped in front of her eyes. They would stop abruptly like someone had hit pause on the cosmic remote and Willow could make out a still picture before the world began to speed into a dizzying array of light.  
  
There was a forest. A river. A dog. Willow's vision blurred then  
  
screeched to a halt. Rocks, red and gray. Millions of rocks. Faces.  
  
Screaming. Then a cavalcade of color, all shades of red. Freeze. Red  
  
mansion. Blur. Stop. Little men in strange clothes. Blur. Stop. Spike. Spike chained. Thin. Gaunt. Fire. Blood. Blur. Stop. Good-looking man, nice suit, hands sparkling. Spike wincing, roaring. Blur. Stop. Eyes. Blue. Intense. Dying. Heart broken. Blur. Stop. Red eyes glowing. Screaming. Blackness.  
  
"Willow," Tara was screaming, "Willow!"  
  
Willow's eyes fluttered open. She was drenched in sweat and her heart was pounding in her chest. "Tara?"  
  
"Oh, God, Willow," Tara breathed, pulling the girl to her chest, embracing her. Anya stepped in with a wet wash cloth, handing it to Tara. Softly, Tara ran the cloth over the soaked nape of Willow's neck.  
  
" I found him," Willow breathed into Tara's shoulder.  
  
"You did well," Tara answered, smoothing Willow's hair with her soft hands. "You spoke and screamed and cried. It was terrifying."  
  
"It was red. And rocks with people screaming. And a good looking man in a suit..." Willow gushed.  
  
"Luke," Anya chirped. "That's a hell dimension. Big into the brawling and ruckus. Lots of torture. Used to be fun."  
  
"You *know what dimension it is?" Tara asked.  
  
"Sure. Used to go there for parties. La Maison Rouge," Anya mused.  
  
"Red house. Red mansion," Willow panted. "Saw that."  
  
"Big keggers," the former demon reminisced, "very strict guest list."  
  
"How do we get there?" Tara asked.  
  
"Oh, you can't. Unless you go on a killing spree and die." Tara and Willow both looked at Anya, tempted to spell her mouth shut again. " Demons only. Or blood relatives. Humans can't go there. The red haze dissolves them."  
  
"Turns you into a ball of light?" Willow asked, still breathing heavily.  
  
"Fireflies. Can't talk. Can't interact. Just a visual tour. Screws up time too."  
  
"Tell me about it," Willow replied.  
  
"So how do we get Spike?" Tara asked.  
  
"That's a tough one," Anya said, sitting in a chair and rubbing her chin  
  
pensively. "None of us are demons anymore. I doubt Spike has any blood  
  
relatives floating around California..."  
  
"Blood relatives? " Tara asked.  
  
"The baby..." Willow whispered, passing out against Tara's shoulder.  
  
To be contd.. 


	5. Double Vision

Title: Double Vision (part 5 - New Life)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG - 13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.. Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Spike is shown things he cannot bear to see. Buffy finds out that it might just be possible to rescue the vampire..  
  
Double Vision  
  
Spike opened his swollen, tired eyes at the sound of the heavy, wooden door creaking open. Luke strolled in, a picture of freshness, chipper as a bird in spring. "How was your sleep?" Luke asked, knowing full well how well Spike had slept.  
  
"Aside from the screaming, the aching limbs, and the hourly dose of sharp, hot things being poked through my bleeding hide, slept like a baby," Spike answered, in the snarkiest tone he could muster.  
  
"Glad you brought that up," Luke chirped.  
  
"Wha? Gotta hot, sharp thing to poke me with?" Spike said, tasting how bad the words sounded only after they slipped from his bloodied mouth.  
  
"Tempting as that offer sounds, no, " Luke responded, rubbing his hands  
  
together with a clap. Sparks flew in little showers from his fingertips.  
  
"Lovely sparklies," Spike smirked. "What do you want?"  
  
"I sat up last night thinking... Luke, I thought, Luke, this whole torture of Willie thing is no where near as fun as it should be. It lacks ... flair. That little je ne sais quoi..."  
  
"Well, then cut me loose and I'll be out of your hair," Spike quipped.  
  
"So," Luke continued, completely ignoring the Vampire, "I thought, what  
  
would crawl under Willie's skin and get him hoppin? Hurt a little?" Luke squeezed his thumb and forefinger together. "And I got this *fab* idea! Babies! And their pretty Mommies. That'll do the trick."  
  
Spike's face blanked. His eyes lowered to the floor. "Leave her out of  
  
this," he snarled. The words came from so deep inside of him it barely  
  
sounded like his voice.  
  
"Now what fun would *that* be?" Luke said, clapping his hands together. The far wall disappeared into blackness. Slowly, a vision of Spike's crypt emerged where the wall once had been. From the edge of his view, he could see Buffy walking, holding a candle, trailing her fingers along the stone. There was no sound. She was heavy with child now. Had it really been that long?, he thought.  
  
"Buffy..." he uttered, staring wide eyed at the screen.  
  
She walked to the bed and sat there, her head buried in her hands, crying. His heart broke watching her body shake, her hands tremble, the tears dripping onto her legs. Spike looked down, barely able to stop the onslaught of hot tears himself.  
  
"Oh, now don't tune out! It gets *better*," Luke cheered, raising his  
  
eyebrows. Spike dragged his head up, back to the vision in front of him. He felt defeated.  
  
Another figure appeared in the corner of the view. A man. He walked into the candlelight. Xander. "What's the whelp doing in my crypt?" Spike asked, mostly to the thick air.  
  
"Shh," Luke admonished. "You'll miss the *good* stuff. Oh, silly me,  
  
forgot the volume." Luke clapped his hands and suddenly Buffy's sobbing  
  
rang in Spike's ears.  
  
"Buffy?" Xander said, walking over to the bed. "Come on, let's get you  
  
home." Least the git was looking out for her, Spike thought.  
  
Buffy continued to cry into her hands. Xander walked over to the where she sat, kneeling down in front of her, taking Buffy's hands into his. She looked down at him with her beautiful doe eyes. The movement made Spike flinch.  
  
"It'll be alright, Buffy," Xander said, wiping the tear matted hair from her cheeks. Buffy said nothing. "Come on, chin up. You got the Xanman to play daddy now instead of useless-Vampire-that-left-you."  
  
Spike roared, pulling at the chains, nearly pulling himself loose, feeling his wrists snap against the iron. "Sodding whelp trying to take  
  
advantage... I should have bloody well killed him..."  
  
"Now *that's* the spirit!" Luke cackled, delighted at the outburst.  
  
Xander leaned up on his knees and kissed Buffy's forehead. Spike pulled  
  
harder against the restraints. She was still crying. "Let's get you home. I'll stay with you and Dawn, OK?"  
  
Buffy nodded, taking Xander's hand. He led her towards the door and out of Spike's view.  
  
*****  
  
"Buffy?" She looked up from her perch on the edge of the bed, easing the tablet back on the nightstand. 95 times tonight.  
  
I love you, Spike.  
  
"Xander?"  
  
"You OK?" he asked, standing in the doorway. He knew he didn't belong  
  
there.  
  
"Yeah," she answered, bursting into tears. She buried her face in her  
  
hands, sobbing steadily.  
  
Xander crossed the room tentatively. God, I don't belong here, he thought. "Buffy, let's get you home," he said approaching her. She wouldn't look up, wouldn't meet eyes with him. Slowly, he kneeled in front of her, trying to get near her eye level. "Buff, it'll be OK."  
  
"It's not OK. Not with him... gone," she answered, face still buried in her hands. "I love him, Xander. I never told him. "  
  
Xander was taken aback. He knew. Hell, everyone *knew*. But she had never admitted it. Not to him, and apparently, not to Spike. A pang of jealousy shot through him as the words reached his ears. Quickly, it was replaced by compassion for the sobbing girl who had saved him so many times.  
  
"My child is going to grow up without a father. And probably without a  
  
mother. And then what?" she sobbed.  
  
"I know it is not the same, Buffy. But we will help you. All of us. It's no substitute, but I'll play uncle while you're out saving the world from daddy's relatives."  
  
Buffy chuckled despite herself. "He was a good...man.. Xander," she said, looking down at him with those hypnotic doe eyes. "I know we'll never agree on that, but he was good to us."  
  
Xander swallowed, his pride sinking down his gullet. "Well, I guess we'll find out when we get him back." Slowly, he pulled her to her feet. "Now let's get you home. I'll even stay on the couch and take care of the nasty potato chip problem that you've been having. They do not stand a chance against the Xanman."  
  
Buffy padded across the room behind Xander. She stopped again at the door, reminding the air that she was home.  
  
To be contd. 


	6. Ice Cream and Hell

Title: Ice Cream and Hell (part 6 - New Life)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG - 13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.. Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Buffy finds out that it might just be possible to rescue Spike, but at what cost?  
  
Ice Cream and Hell  
  
It was late. It had to have been midnight, at least, Giles thought as he put the last dish in the drying rack and wiped his hands on the dishtowel. He was trying to help Buffy any way he could. From doing the dishes, to staying in her mom's old room just as a comfort, to settling some nasty debts. That he would discuss with Buffy later. For now, he felt he owed her all he had to give.  
  
"Giles?" He heard in symphony with the door creaking open and slamming  
  
shut. A herd of feet pounded back to the kitchen.  
  
"Y..yes. It's rather late, you know?" he said wearily as Willow, Tara and Anya stampeded into the kitchen.  
  
"Where's Xander?" Anya asked, scanning the room as if Giles might have  
  
hidden the boy in a cabinet.  
  
"I believe he went to retrieve Buffy," Giles responded. "And Dawn's in bed so please try and keep the noise level down."  
  
"Right, sorry," Tara said, gesturing a finger over her lips.  
  
"We have news," Willow said, smiling. "We found Spike."  
  
Giles' eyes widened. "You did? Where did you locate him?" He walked into the living room, three women in tow, and settled into the overstuffed armchair.  
  
"He's in a hell dimension," Tara replied.  
  
"Well, there are several hell dimensions.." Giles began. The three women sat in a line on the couch.  
  
"He's at La Maison Rouge," Anya chirped, matter-of-factly. Giles looked at her as if she had suddenly sprouted a second head, and possibly a third. "You know, the Red House. The Red Mansion. Mephistopheles. You can call me Luke...Hell," she gushed.  
  
"Hell?" Giles asked simply.  
  
"Yeah, you know, the regular one," Willow contributed.  
  
"Well, that's decidedly unoriginal," Giles said, wiping his glasses on his shirttail.  
  
"I doubt he was going for points for originality when he ended up there," Willow countered.  
  
"Ah," Giles responded at a loss.  
  
"So, how do we get there?" Tara asked. " I mean without being evil and then dying."  
  
"I told you, Luke's got a strict guest list," Anya interrupted. "You don't just show up at La Maison Rouge. It'd be like crashing Studio 54. Think Luke had a hand in that one too...."  
  
"Who is Luke?" Giles asked, seeing a fourth head pop from the girl's  
  
shoulders.  
  
"Mephistopheles. Come on Giles.." she griped.  
  
"Right," Giles responded, nodding. "So, Anya, since you are familiar with the rules of this dimension, how do we get there?"  
  
"Think I asked that..." Tara said, raising her hand, then lowering it upon receiving Giles's version of the evil eye.  
  
"As I was saying," Anya whined," Strict guest list. You either die, or  
  
you're a demon. Or a blood relative of a demon."  
  
"Blood relative?" Giles repeated. "Seems odd."  
  
"Yeah well, Luke's an odd guy. He's got that 'all about the blood' thing in his head. But he *is* startlingly attractive."  
  
"Well," Giles began, "None of us is currently a demon nor actively dead..." It sounded odd, but in this circle, a prudent point.  
  
"But there is a blood relative, " Willow said, her tone becoming serious.  
  
"Here, in Sunnydale?" Giles asked.  
  
"Yes," Willow answered. "Buffy's baby."  
  
Giles was silent for a long moment. " Willow, I doubt that an unborn child can flit off to hell to rescue its father."  
  
"Her father," Tara corrected.  
  
"Nor do I think Buffy would entertain the notion were it possible," Giles continued.  
  
"But Buffy might be able to go, since the baby is still part of her,"  
  
Willow responded, biting her lip against the tirade she knew would come.  
  
"Buffy," Giles enunciated, biting back his anger," is in *no condition to journey to a hell dimension. She could give birth any day now. Not to mention the fact that we do not know she could indeed make it into the dimension under the rules that Anya so graciously outlined. Nor do we know if her powers will be of any consequence in another dimension. *Nor* do we have a way to get her there even if the rest of the scheme were feasible." His voice rose with every word.  
  
"Of course you can get here there. Dawn's the *Key*, silly," Anya quipped, non-plussed by Giles' outburst.  
  
"So, now you're suggesting we bleed her sister dry to boot? Have you all gone *completely* mad?"  
  
"No, no. Completely dry brings down the walls to *all* the dimensions.  
  
Three drops should cover opening one little portal," Anya responded, either confusing Giles's agitation with excitement or purposely bating him to explode.  
  
"This is ludicrous," Giles raged, slamming his hand down on the coffee  
  
table. Tara and Willow scooted back on the couch like scolded children,  
  
"and if you *ever* breathe a *word of this to Buffy or Dawn, I will..."  
  
"You'll what?" Buffy asked cheerfully, holding an ice cream cone in one  
  
messy hand. Xander stood behind her in the doorway.  
  
"Tell us what, Giles? And could you *make* any more noise?" Dawn asked, rubbing her sleepy eyes from the stairwell.  
  
"Good Heavens," Giles responded, flopping back into the chair.  
  
"Well, go on," Xander said, sitting on the arm of the couch next to Anya. Dawn descended the stairs and hooked her arm through Buffy's.  
  
"Tell us what?" Buffy said, lapping butter pecan as it dribbled down the side of the cone.  
  
"Giles?" Anya prodded.  
  
"Giles?" Tara questioned. "Don't you think it's her call?"  
  
Giles threw up his hands in frustration. "Tell them."  
  
*****  
  
  
  
Buffy sat completely still in the chair next to the couch, ice cream melting in a bowl on the table beside her. All eyes were on her. In every way on every word, she was torn. There was no guarantee she could make it into the dimension. There was no guarantee that if she made it there, she could find Spike and bring him back in one piece. Going at all would be endangering her child, herself, not to mention injuring her sister. Still, the chance, even the slimmest chance, to see him again, to touch him, to *say* it...  
  
I love you, Spike  
  
That would be worth the price.  
  
"Can you guarantee me that Dawn would not he hurt?" Buffy asked, very  
  
seriously. Dawn twitched from her perch on the floor, curled against  
  
Buffy's legs.  
  
"Anya tells us it should take just a few drops," Giles responded.  
  
"Buffy, I want to help," Dawn pleaded, looking up at her sister with wet and strangely more mature eyes. " I want him back," she whispered. Buffy reached down and stroked her long dark hair.  
  
"Have you found a way to make sure that both the baby and I survive her  
  
birth?" Buffy asked, weighing her options heavily.  
  
"Not yet," Giles responded, his attention turning to the floorboards.  
  
The wheels turned in the Slayer's mind. Everything clicked into place like the tumblers in a lock. "Then I go," Buffy responded, resolutely.  
  
"Buffy, are you sure?" Giles's voice was a mixture of frustration and fear. His chest was rising and falling at twice normal speed.  
  
"You can't tell me you can save us, but I might be able to save him. I  
  
think the choice is clear," Buffy replied, warm tears swimming in the backs of her eyes. "If I didn't try, then I think the what ifs are a little more than I could live with."  
  
"Alright then," Giles responded, letting his breath escape in a loud sigh.  
  
"We need to do this soon. Like now. We don't know how long this'll take and I don't know how long I've got before the baby makes a grand entrance. When can we do this?" Buffy was gushing, trying to cover the fear with words.  
  
"We can probably have everything set by tomorrow evening. I would just like to look into a few details before I send you to hell," The disapproval was evident in his tone and in his words.  
  
"Thank you," Buffy answered, pushing herself to her feet. Dawn stood up  
  
with her. "I'm going to try and get some sleep. Please do this for me."  
  
Slowly, she made her way up the stairs.  
  
To be contd... 


	7. The Peacemaker

Title: The Peacemaker (part 7 - New Life)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG - 13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.. Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Spike receives a visit from a ghostly friend. Buffy departs on her journey to find Spike.  
  
The Peacemaker  
  
Spike hung limply against the chains. He was beaten inside and out.  
  
Between the physical punishment, the startling lack of sustenance, and the constant video that Luke now piped in, Spike did not think he could, nor did he want to, make it through another moment. Too bad he was already dead several times over, he thought.  
  
The door at the far end of the room creaked open. Spike did not even bother to crane his head toward the sound anymore. All it meant was more terrible things. He just hung there, staring at the red dust sweeping across the floor.  
  
"Spike?" he heard. A woman's voice. Sweet and rich and melodic. Almost like Buffy's but with the slightest tinge of an accent. "Spike?"  
  
Spike picked up his head and turned his battered face towards the sound. A beautiful woman was standing at the entryway. She could not have been more than eighteen. The girl looked like an angel, almost like Tara had that night; not quite solid, shimmering, glowing. It was as if her body was carved out of moonstone but she moved as if she were made of liquid mercury.  
  
The girl was small and pretty. As beautiful as Buffy, Spike thought. She was built like her. Lean and muscular and graceful with a stature much larger than her size. Pretty blonde hair, high, strong cheekbones, smooth peach skin, coral lips and piercing blue eyes. The girl was a vision, and a good one at that, Spike thought.  
  
"Hi, Spike," she whispered walking towards him. She brushed her hands  
  
against the metal restraints at his wrists and they fell to the floor.  
  
Spike fell limply to the dirt as if the metal was the only thing holding his bones in place.  
  
The girl sat down in the dirt and lifted Spike's head gently into her lap, brushing his face with her hands. "Who are you?" he croaked "You don't belong here."  
  
"I am the Peacemaker," she answered, brushing her hands over his aching  
  
chest.  
  
"The Peacemaker?" Spike asked. "Kind of name is that, love?"  
  
" I have no name. I have no context in your world yet," she answered in  
  
that soft angelic voice. "But you know of me."  
  
"Legend, myth." Spike coughed. The girl silenced him, lifting a cup to his lips. He drank deeply feeling the fluid ignite his veins, awaken his mind. It was not blood nor water, nor anything he had ever tasted. Ambrosia, he thought. This is what Ambrosia tastes like.  
  
"Prophesy," the girl corrected.  
  
"Dodgy prophesy at best," Spike countered, "No real basis."  
  
"Ah, but I am real," she retorted, smiling the most beautiful smile.  
  
"Are you?" he asked, unable to avoid smiling back at her.  
  
"Quite," she answered. " I am the one to bring peace between the  
  
dimensions, to bridge the gap between man and beast..."  
  
"The one to stop the wars..." Spike continued almost by rote. He could not even remember when he had learned the words.  
  
"And you," she said, placing her hand over his heart, shocking him with her touch, "cannot give up."  
  
"Why does that matter?" It almost hurt to look upon her she was so perfect. She was so much like Buffy. So ... light. The ache in his heart was palpable.  
  
"Because you have to protect me," she answered. "You and the Slayer."  
  
"Wha?" he tried to respond, his face blanking completely. The girl shushed him softly.  
  
"No more talking." Her shimmering, glowing beauty mesmerized him. His  
  
mouth snapped shut at her request. "She is coming for you, Spike," the girl continued.  
  
"Buffy..."  
  
Spike was shushed again like a wayward child. "Buffy," the girl said  
  
smiling softly, peacefully. "No matter what is said in this place, or what you see, no matter what happens when she comes, you *must* leave when you have the chance. Even if that means leaving her behind. Do not hesitate. Do not look back. When you see an opening, you *must* take it."  
  
"But Buffy... she can't... I can't... not like that... "  
  
"I will tend to her," the girl assured him. "But you must go. Do you  
  
understand?"  
  
Spike swallowed hard, nodding.  
  
"Now, sleep," she whispered, kissing his forehead. He fell drowning into her embrace and was gone before she uttered another word.  
  
*****  
  
They walked to the schoolyard in silence. All together, as if being apart might break the chain that made them all human. Buffy walked arm in arm with Dawn, stoic and serious and deathly quiet. Willow had told her everything she had seen. Anya had told her everything that she knew. If Buffy could find the red house, if she could find Luke, then she could find Spike. If she found Spike, she would not leave without him. Her determination was evident in her stride.  
  
They arranged in a circle in that spot in front of the jungle gym where  
  
Spike had disappeared. Buffy could still feel him there, like an ache in her bones. Giles reasoned that opening the portal would be most efficient in a spot where it had opened before. No one questioned him. They rarely ever did.  
  
It was dark. Moonless. The irony of opening the gates of Hell in a  
  
schoolyard was not lost. The most dastardly things arose from the most  
  
innocent of places. It never ceased to amaze Buffy how ironic the world  
  
could be. How utterly ironic.  
  
Buffy had made it clear that she did not want to say goodbye to any of them. Good-byes were never good. They tended to mean, in her jaded view of the world, that you were going somewhere irretrievable, someplace from which you could not return. Dawn had curled up in Buffy's bed the night before and that was more than she could bear. The fear was already gnawing at her mind. Still, this had to be done. Speak now or forever hold your peace, she thought.  
  
Buffy nodded and Giles slid a knife from a small sheath at his waist. Dawn looked frightened, but she held out her arm willingly and let her wrist fall into Giles's cupped palm. She had practiced her lines, imagined the pain over and over as if rehearsing for a very dark play. Still, she was afraid. Dawn needed Spike nearly as much as Buffy and she desperately wanted to do this one thing right.  
  
Giles looked at the teenager softly, studying her face. In that moment, she became as old as the heavens, as wise as the Earth, as bright as the stars. He nodded at her slightly. The voice of the trembling girl suddenly became the song of millions of generations. Rich and sweet and powerful.  
  
"Open the portal to the depths of Hell  
  
The gates of La Maison Rouge  
  
Let this traveler pass freely between.  
  
And guard her journey through."  
  
Giles slid the knife across Dawn's fingers. Three drops of blood slid  
  
slowly to the sand, spreading into a vast pool. It shimmered and sparkled, glowing blue with an eerie light.  
  
"Guess this is my stop," Buffy said, looking at Dawn and Giles. "See ya  
  
around," she whispered, stepping into the blue nothingness. And she was  
  
gone.  
  
  
  
to be contd. 


	8. Three Dog Night

Title: Three Dog Night (part 8 - New Life)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG - 13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.. Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Luke takes Spike on an adventure, Buffy begins her journey to find Spike.  
  
Three Dog Night  
  
Spike awoke once again chained to the wall. The girl was gone, but he felt her warmth all around him, inside of him, coursing through his veins. The drink she had given him had restored his strength and her words, his fire.  
  
Buffy was coming for him. Spike was a little put off by the fact that he needed rescuing at all, but the sheer pleasure of seeing her face once again was worth a little wounded pride.  
  
Still, he thought, what he had seen here had mortified even his demon soul. It was killing him to think of her alone in that wasteland. Why did they send *her*? She had to be close to delivering the child. Why would they even *let* her go? Spike chuckled to himself thinking, no one *lets* Buffy Summers do anything. Only can watch her and hope for the best. Buffy had made up her mind and come here on her own. Despite the fact he knew she could hold her own, the fear gnawed at him. He could not live with himself if Buffy or the child died trying to save his sorry hide.  
  
The Peacemaker said she would help them, Spike thought. Somehow he believed it.  
  
"Spike!" Luke exclaimed, prancing through the door.  
  
"Bastard," Spike responded, nodding his healing face at the monster.  
  
"Why *you're* feisty today for a little caged beastie," Luke chirped.  
  
"Ready for today's episode of 'Slays of our Lives'?"  
  
"Not much in the spirit today, mate," Spike responded. "What's behind door number two?"  
  
Luke thought for a moment. "Alright," he said suddenly, clapping his hands. Spike fell to the floor with a thud.  
  
"Bloody Hell. Enough with the dropping!" The Vampire whined, rubbing his wrists. "To what do I owe this distinct pleasure?" Spike stood, wiping the red dust from his jeans.  
  
"And *now* for something completely different...." Luke babbled. "Let's  
  
take a walk, Willie."  
  
"Where to?" Spike responded taking a wobbly step forward.  
  
"A little tour of my humble abode. Show you all the sights La Maison Rouge has to offer." Luke hooked an arm through Spike's and Spike tore away, straightening himself. "Have it your way," he said, winking slyly.  
  
*****  
  
The foot that had stepped out of the sand in the playground suddenly  
  
crunched into fallen leaves. Buffy looked down, then up, then spun just as the glowy, bluish circle disappeared. "Oh well," she said to no one in particular. "This isn't *too* bad."  
  
Buffy had found herself in a forest. A dark, overgrown, spooky forest, but a pretty normal sight, all in all. One inconvenience, Buffy noticed while surveying her current situation, was that her sweatpants and T-shirt had been replaced by a little, white sundress and her tennis shoes were gone. "I hate travelling in a dress," she whined, beginning to trek down the path.  
  
Buffy had no idea where she was headed; she was just following her gut.  
  
Quite literally. When the child kicked her toward the left, she veered  
  
little left. Right, right. Center, straight. Seemed as good a navigation system as any. Not to mention that she never lacked direction as the baby had suddenly jumped to aggravated attention as soon as they had crossed the portal.  
  
It seemed like hours that she climbed through the underbrush, jabbing,  
  
cutting, twisting her feet on every rock, twig, and thorn in existence.  
  
Maybe this was Hell, she thought, sitting heavily on a log. She lifted her leg and stretched to pull a thorn from the sole of her foot, finding this task to be Herculean, but successful after several attempts. Buffy sat, staring at the unending woods. "So," she asked the air, the child, whoever might be listening, "where do we go from here?"  
  
As if on cue, the sound of a river came roaring into her ears. Buffy  
  
slapped her hands over them to try and quell the sound, but it was twice as loud in her head. "No need to drop and anvil on me!" The noise quieted to a subtle, babbling brook, sound. "Jeez, if I'd a known it was that easy, I would have just asked you to take me to Spike."  
  
In the distance she heard a roar and an awful crash. The sound made her  
  
instantly cold. Buffy hoisted herself from the log and scampered up a rise and down a bank to a vast river. This was odd, she thought. She should have been able to see or at least hear it well before she did, yet it seemed to just appear in front of her. Poof.  
  
Just as suddenly, a boat appeared in front of her, bobbing lazily on the  
  
shore. Shortly thereafter, a dog appeared in the boat. Buffy looked at the dog curiously. It was large, possibly the largest dog she had ever seen. What was really stood out about the pooch was its two extra heads. "This can't get any weirder," she mumbled, walking towards the boat. The baby suddenly landed a right hook against some imaginary foe and Buffy stumbled.  
  
"Need some help?" a husky, pleasant voice said. Buffy straightened, looking around. "Well, I know you don't belong here, so, I ask again, need some help?" the voice repeated. The dog. To be precise, the middle head.  
  
"Uh...uh..." Buffy stuttered in reply.  
  
"Girl like you in a place like this," the right head commented, wagging back and forth.  
  
"'Specially in your condition," the left chimed in.  
  
"You're gonna need some help," middle head continued.  
  
Buffy's blonde locks bounced as if she were watching Wimbledon. Finally, the middle head addressed her, looking at her dead on. The creature's eyes were strangely human. "Where to, pretty lady?"  
  
"I'm looking for a blond guy. Well, Vampire really. About this tall, " she said gesturing, "Long black coat, talks you to death, English, blue eyes, great cheekbones...."  
  
"Haven't seen the likes of that," right head said. Buffy's heart sank.  
  
"But if he's a demon, probably went a more direct route. Skipped the whole Forest of Despair," left head said.  
  
"How about a guy named Luke?" Buffy asked. "Big red house?" She crossed her arms, tapping her foot as the heads muttered amongst themselves.  
  
"Pretty lady doesn't want to go there. How bout a trip to Purgatory?  
  
Really not that bad this time of year..." middle head said.  
  
"The red place," Buffy insisted. All three heads shrugged on one set of  
  
shoulders.  
  
"Climb aboard," they all said, holding out one enormous paw.  
  
*****  
  
"So, what *exactly* do you plan to show me?" Spike complained, hopping up the steps behind his well-dressed host.  
  
"Oh, all that my little casa has to offer."  
  
"Little late for hospitality, mate," Spike quipped. They reached the  
  
landing and turned right onto a red carpeted hallway. The walls were  
  
mirrored and Spike noticed, as he passed the first wall, that he did indeed have a reflection. He stopped in his tracks looking at a man he had not seen in over 120 years. God, I'm pale, he thought.  
  
Luke laughed, watching the Vampire spin, checking his sides, turning and  
  
lifting his duster, then craning his head over his shoulder. "Yes, you have a lovely arse," the hellgod chuckled as Spike dropped the coat with  
  
indignation.  
  
"I wasn't..."  
  
"Sure you weren't," Luke replied, winking. "Plenty for that little Slayer bi**h to love."  
  
"You should *not* be calling her names," Spike hissed, puffing himself,  
  
stepping toward Luke.  
  
"Please," Luke said. "That's half of got you whipped to start with. The game. The dance. Part of your mating ritual. A little demon in you both if you ask me," he mused. "Not that it matters now since she's about to become very *dead*."  
  
Spike stared at Luke for a moment, his blood boiling in his veins.  
  
"I know she's coming," Luke griped, "I'm not *stupid*."  
  
"You'd be best not to even *try* and hurt her," Spike said, his face  
  
suddenly feeling tight, hot.  
  
'No matter what you see...no matter what you hear..' the soft voice  
  
whispered in his ear. A calm rushed over the Vampire.  
  
"Wouldn't underestimate the Slayer, mate," Spike retorted almost cheerfully. "She's taken out bigger bads than you."  
  
Luke spun on one heel and began again down the long hallway. Spike smiled to himself, thinking for the first time that this just might work.  
  
*****  
  
The boat pulled up against a rocky shore. All red and gray and utterly  
  
devoid of anything remotely familiar. "This is it," middle head said,  
  
lending Buffy an enormous paw and helping her out of the boat.  
  
"Sure we can't interest you in a tour of the Netherworlds?" right head  
  
asked.  
  
"Nah," she answered smiling. "Got work here." She was silent a moment.  
  
"Hey, I don't have anything to give you for the ride."  
  
"This one's free," middle head replied, "but I never want to see you down here again."  
  
"Deal," Buffy said, shaking the outstretched paw.  
  
The boat scooted off the shore and Buffy began to trek up the rocky incline to the equally rocky plain. "Buffy?" left head called as the boat floated off. Buffy turned around toward the boat. "Make peace," it barked. She cocked her head, looking at the creature oddly. The boat disappeared just as strangely as it had appeared.  
  
To be contd. 


	9. Door Number Two

Title: Door Number Two (part 9 - New Life)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG - 13 - close to R in parts. Please be warned.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.. Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Luke takes Spike on an adventure, Buffy continues her journey to find Spike.  
  
Door Number Two  
  
"Now," Luke began. "Behind each door is a little present for you, Willie. A little gift from my heart to yours." Spike stood still in front of the large red door. "Well, open wide," Luke laughed, lifting Spike's hand and placing it on the golden knob.  
  
Slowly, Spike turned the knob, stepping into the entryway of a beautifully appointed bedroom. It was enormous, with large picture windows and a wall that separated the entrance from the main bedroom. This is how he imagined living. Sharing this room with Buffy would be bliss.  
  
Once completely in the room, he could hear a soft sound around the corner. Rhythmic, quiet, murmuring from the bedroom. It was her voice. She was here. Hope grabbed him by the shoulders and he darted around the edge of the wall and stopped cold. He blinked once to clear the vision from his eyes. When he looked again, there she was. Buffy. Naked. A large reddish demon under her. Spike blinked again, but there she was, her pretty naked back to him. She craned her head over her shoulder and looked at him, smiling viciously. "You're next, stud," she whispered, winking. Her voice. He knew her voice anywhere.  
  
"Buffy?" Spike sputtered, shock seizing his voice mid word.  
  
"Come and get 'em cowboy," Buffy said, kicking the demon to the floor and rolling onto her bottom. He stared at her, blinking over and over, trying to clear it. There was something about her that was wrong. Her eyes. They were yellow.  
  
"No!" he said tossing his hands to his sides. "No!" he repeated turning on a heel and running out of the room. Luke smiled as Spike bolted through the door. "Gotta like that piece," he said, catching Spike's arm and pulling him back.  
  
"It's *not* her," He spat at Luke, pushing him hard against the wall.  
  
"Maybe," Luke chuckled, " Maybe not. Let's try door number two. See if  
  
that puts spring in your step." Luke turned the tables, grabbing Spike by the lapels of his jacket and slamming him hard into the next door. Spike fell through with a clatter, and pulled himself onto his knees. The Vampire caught the scent of blood. Her blood. Quickly, his head whipped up. There was an oddly familiar bed in front of him. Spike scanned the room. It was Buffy's room. He pulled himself to his feet.  
  
There was blood everywhere. Her blood. He knew the scent. As he came  
  
closer to the bed, Spike could see that the white linen bedspread was soaked end to end. She was curled in a ball, shaking, her body covered in claw marks. He stumbled, tripping, trying to get to her. "Buffy?" he tried to scream, but all that he could muster was a retching sound.  
  
Spike grabbed her arm and rolled her toward him softly. Her eyes fluttered open. He remembered that stare. That frozen, swimming stare, just as the world fades off.  
  
"Spike," she whispered, winding her fingers through his. He could feel his body shudder and the tears stream down his cheeks in rivers. Her hands were cold to him. Cold. "Spike, I tried to save you." He leaned down, pressing his lips to her. They tasted like Buffy's lips. "They took her Spike," she continued her lips still against his. "They took our baby. I killed you both." Her eyes drifted closed. He pulled the tiny body to his chest and rocked her, sobbing into her bloodied blonde hair.  
  
"No Buffy," he whispered, "this isn't real. Nothing here is real. Please, love. Please." He sat there forever, covered in her. He had to believe this was an illusion, that everything here was somehow false. Still, he did not know. This could be her. She could be dead. Their child stolen. Even if she stormed through the door this very moment, the memory of this room would be forever... there.  
  
"Now *this* is a Kodak moment," Luke said appearing in the doorway,  
  
clapping. Spike looked up, his chin still buried in her hair.  
  
"Why won't you leave her out of this?" Spike hissed.  
  
"This is Hell, William," Luke responded, obviously annoyed. "You chose to live your life like a human, but you never paid for your good old demon days. So, here you are, in human Hell holding your bloody human wife and wishing things were different. Well, guess what, Willie, you did this all to yourself. Time you owned up to it. Wanna be a human? Never gonna happen. Wanna act human? Need to face your demons. Now get up," Luke said, grabbing Spike's collar and dragging him to his feet. Buffy fell limply to the bed, her hand still tangled in his. "Leave her there. You have more important things to see." The hell god ripped Spike from her and pushed him out the door.  
  
*****  
  
Buffy walked in silence for a few moments before she started to hear the  
  
sound. At first, she thought it was just wind beginning to pick up in the distance. An eerie, far away howl that chilled her to the core. No matter where she looked, all she could see was rocks.  
  
A sudden, furious fluttering above her made her jump. A murder of crows  
  
passed over her like a storm cloud, flapping and screaming. Buffy dropped to her knees, throwing her hands over her head as the birds dove and cawed all around her. As soon as the sound had appeared, the fluttering stopped.  
  
Then she heard the screams.  
  
When Buffy stood again, she saw the faces. Pressing against the rocks from the inside. Pounding, screaming, as far as the eyes could see. She pushed herself to her feet, staring at the stones in horror. Humming, talking to herself to drown out the sound. Still, they screamed on. Her heart was fluttering like the crow wings. No way to make them stop. Please make them stop.  
  
'...and it sounds like rain,' she heard in her head.  
  
She stopped and closed her eyes, listening. Her heartbeat. The child's  
  
heartbeat. Buffy smiled. It did sound like rain.  
  
There was barely a path between the rocks, but Buffy made her way along the edges, trying not to step on any faces. The way was horrible and having no shoes made it that much worse. Her feet burned with every step. A sound distracted her and she looked up, immediately turning her ankle and tripping, landing on her hands and knees in the dirt.  
  
It was then that she noticed that they weren't just any faces.  
  
She recognized them.  
  
The face of every vamp, every demon, she had killed as the Slayer. She  
  
hitched, a scream catching in her throat. Buffy stumbled to her feet,  
  
spinning, staring at the faces. Old and new. It dawned on her that these were all human faces. That they had once been human, had parents, kids, friends. But they were demons when she staked them. Evil, soulless, demons.  
  
Like Spike.  
  
Buffy cupped her hand over her mouth, staring wide-eyed at the trapped souls of humans who had lost their way. A flurry of thoughts raced through her mind. Had she been right *every* time? *Every* time? Could she say that with certainty? She *felt* right. It was her job. The nature of her beast. They were *evil*.  
  
But what if even one of them had been like Spike?  
  
The Slayer backed into a boulder, feeling the stone press into her bare  
  
shoulders. She was choking, weak kneed. This is an illusion, she thought. She did what she *had* to do. A scream rose behind her and she spun toward the boulder. Jenny Calendar. The woman Giles had loved. Screaming, pounding. Buffy knew she had not killed her, but in a way, she had.  
  
Everything she touched died.  
  
"Oh, God," she screamed, running from Jenny's prison. "Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God." Buffy ran as fast as she could, her bare feet flying over stone after stone, her madness building in her spine like some dragon seizing her body. "Oh, God."  
  
"Doubt he'll be of much help to you here," A voice said. A familiar voice.  
  
Buffy's head swung up and there he was, standing in her path. "Doubt your God cares much about this place."  
  
"Angel?" She panted, shaking her head.  
  
"See you've decided to expand the Summer's clan," he said, looking her over. Buffy self-consciously stared at her stomach, then back at Angel's face. She said nothing. "Who's the lucky guy? Potato boy come back?"  
  
"Angel, I..."  
  
"What, Buffy? Can't admit it? Too embarrassed? Not embarrassed enough if you ask me."  
  
This wasn't right. She knew this... thing. It wasn't Angel.  
  
This was Angelus.  
  
"Spike..." Buffy said quietly, staring at his dead eyes. Angelus blinked hard once. Even for him, even in this state, he had not expected that one.  
  
"*Spike*? Well then," Angelus said, "explains why you are here."  
  
"I need to find him," she pleaded, hoping that she was wrong. That Angel was in there and he would help her.  
  
"Why?" Angelus was laughing. "Better off without our special little  
  
William."  
  
"I love him, Angel." It was a spontaneous confession, but something that she thought would never happen. She would never admit to Angel that she loved someone else. Love someone *more*.  
  
Simple fact was, she did.  
  
"Love," mused Angelus, beginning to walk a slow circle around the girl,  
  
taunting her. "You don't know the first thing about it, *Pet*." Spike's word sounded like blood dripping from the creature's lips. "You *can't* love. Not in the Buffy Summers handbook. You *can't* feel anything that doesn't serve *you* to feel. That isn't *love*. That's selfishness. For God's sakes Buffy, you couldn't even love your *mother* unless it was convenient for you. And Dawn? Why do you think she is going bad, Buffy? No love."  
  
Buffy was battling off the tears that were waging war behind her eyes. Some escaped, rolling down her cheeks in a futile effort to vent her hurt. "Angel.." she breathed, trying to stop her hands from shaking.  
  
"Not that I blame you. I mean who ever loved you?" Angelus continued,  
  
shrugging, circling. " Your *daddy* certainly left in a hurry. Doesn't come around much anymore, does he? Potato boy took the easy way out as soon as things got rough. And God knows, *I* never loved you. Who could, Buffy?" Tears were streaming down her face. He was circling her like a cat circling a caged canary, watching it suffer until he figures a way to break the cage and make the kill.  
  
"Spike does," Buffy whispered.  
  
"Ha," Angelus laughed. "Right. Sure. Forget I've known him for 120  
  
years? Completely lead by the pants, dear. I always preferred torture  
  
myself, but Spike? He liked the thrill of the lay. He wanted it from you. Kill two Slayers, screw the third. From the looks of things he was successful. Well done, William."  
  
"You're *wrong*," Buffy screamed, her hands shooting out and catching Angelus in the chest. He fell to the ground in a heap. "You know *nothing* about love, Angelus," she hissed, planting her foot in his stomach. "I loved you more than I ever thought I could love anything. Guess I grew up. But it's *you* that can't love. You even had the benefit of a soul. Minute you lose it, you're an animal."  
  
"That's right, baby," the beast smirked up at her.  
  
"One I should put down.. again," Buffy spat. Suddenly, she stopped, pulling her foot from him and stepping back. "You know what, Angelus. I feel sorry for you. Old as you are, and still can't figure out how to feel. Maybe the Vampire is only as good as the man. You were pathetic and evil then. The Vamp that turned you was doing you a favor."  
  
Buffy turned away from the creature on the ground beneath her and began to walk along the edges of the rocks.  
  
To be contd. 


	10. Weeping Willow

Title: Weeping Willow (part 10 - New Life)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG - 13 - close to R in parts. Please be warned.  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.. Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Luke makes Spike face the repercussions of his ways, Buffy continues her journey to find Spike, and finds something she never wished to see.  
  
Weeping Willow  
  
Luke dragged Spike from Buffy's bedroom with such force that Spike felt his shoulder pull from the socket. It was all seemed so real. Still, somewhere he knew she was alive. The girl in his dream had promised him she'd tend to her and for whatever reason, Spike trusted the Peacemaker.  
  
They were back in the hallway now, the thick red carpeting like a sea of  
  
blood beneath their feet. "You know, Willie, I can make all of this stop. You're a demon, man! You belong here. If you'd just let go of the damn humans, we'd be upstairs playing pool, listening to the Ramones and sexing up the succubae. Whadya say Spike?" Luke gushed, clapping Spike on the shoulder. "Give up the girl, the kid, her little sister, her friends, and get the keys to the kingdom. Humanity's over rated. Bunch of frantic lost pansies doing everything they can to forget they are human. And you *want* that? Come on, Spike. This is the *real* deal."  
  
Spike looked thoughtfully at Luke. It really was not that long ago that  
  
this would not have even been a choice. Love had been rabid and ferocious and insane. Pleasure was everything. Taking was the only aspiration. The demon inside craved that. Every day, craved the kill, the cheap thrill, the untamed lust without the bridle of emotion. Spike had fought the demon for so long now. He thought he had won. He thought he had crushed it in Africa, but there it was, rearing its ugly head again. 'Take the money and run,' he thought. 'Make this stop. Rip my bleeding hear out of my chest and crush the love and get this *bloody well* over with. Buffy'll find her way.'  
  
Buffy.  
  
Her goodness. Her light. Her loyalty. Her beauty. They rushed over him like the tide. Spike felt himself standing naked in her sea letting her warmth rush over him, crash into him, sometimes knocking him flat. But she was always there, rushing and receding like the tide.  
  
"No, mate," Spike said, straightening his shoulders as if willing the demon away, "fraid that time is over."  
  
"Suit yourself," Luke replied, shoving Spike through yet another door.  
  
*****  
  
Buffy had walked for hours. Still, nothing changed. It was sea of rocks. No big, red houses. Not even a big red shrub. The screaming went on, but she was used to it now as one gets used to a vile smell. Her body ached and her stomach cramped with hunger and fatigue. The baby, for once, was dormant.  
  
"Catching a nap?" she asked the basketball between her hips. "Don't blame you. We need to find a place to hole up a while. Wonder if this dimension has room service?"  
  
In the distance, the farthest distance she could see, was the oddest vision. A tree. An enormous Willow, to be exact, its branches sweeping from the sky and dipping down to kiss the earth. Resolutely, Buffy headed toward the closest thing to shelter that she was likely to find.  
  
It took her a good ten minutes even to get close to it. The branches were so lush and low, she could not see the trunk. Her brow furrowed as a cold chill shot down her spine. She ignored it, knowing that this was the best she was going to do. With a deep breath, Buffy parted the branches and darted under cover.  
  
The first thing she saw was a glimpse of black leather. Buffy slid a branch out of her way and could see a form sitting on the ground, leaned against the massive trunk. His back was to her, but she saw the leather and what she thought was a glimpse of blonde hair.  
  
"Spike?" Buffy almost screamed, making her way to the trunk, rounding the edge. There was no answer. "Spike, is that you?"  
  
Buffy rounded the trunk and there he was, sitting silently, staring off into the distance. Only three wasn't a distance. Just a tangle of branches. "Spike?" she whispered, kneeling down, her knees resting on the leather of his duster. She could smell the smoke and old darkened leather. "Spike?" Tears were creeping into her eyes and the dragon of her fear was coiling its way up her back. "Spike?" she said again, reaching out to touch his shoulder.  
  
He toppled onto his side. Frozen. Unmoving, staring into the unseen  
  
distance.  
  
"Spike?" Buffy whispered, tears beginning to fall. She was shaking him  
  
almost violently now. He couldn't be dead. He was already dead. "Spike, wake up dammit!" Her hands were on his frozen shoulders, gouging at the leather, his head lolling with every shake. "Spike, no. Oh God, no," she cried, dropping her hands. Her palm slapped to her moth, trying to stifle the scream. It rose from her throat like a primal roar, shaking the branches of the Willow. The last note caught in a retching sob and she could feel it all again. The playground. Reaching. Gone.  
  
Buffy grabbed Spike's wrists and pulled him upright then over to her, his head resting on her lap. Her eyes were sore and felt as if they were bleeding. The anger and hurt boiled in her veins. Softly, her hands skimmed over his beautiful face. It was sculpted like marble, like a statue, and the sapphire orbs stared up at her quietly. Never to say another word again. The tears. How many could one woman cry? They dripped down onto the smooth plain of his skin like rain.  
  
"I love you," she choked out. "Even when I hated you, I loved you. Always. Every day." Buffy leaned down, pressing her lips to his, breaking down completely when her prince did not magically flutter to life.  
  
She had no idea how long she sat there, rocking, cradling his head in her lap, sobbing, until her throat was sore and her eyes dry, hollow wells. Buffy felt arms wrap around her shoulders. Warm, lithe, strong. The air smelled like vanilla. She closed her eyes and drank in the warmth.  
  
"It's not real, you know," a sweet female voice sang in her ears. Melodic and rich and smooth. "Nothing you experience here is real. Remember that."  
  
Buffy fell back into the girl's embrace, leaning her back into her  
  
chest, closing her eyes. The young girl stroked Buffy's hair and rocked her as Buffy had rocked her lover. "You need to rest," the girl whispered, brushing the hair from Buffy's cheek. "You have much to do."  
  
"Who? Who are you?" Buffy muttered broken heart and soul.  
  
"I am the Peacemaker," the girl answered quietly. "But you know who I am."  
  
Buffy opened her eyes. The vision of Spike was gone. She stared up into a beautiful face, glowing like moonlight. Piercing blue eyes and smooth peach skin, spun silk hair. " I know you?" Buffy struggled to speak.  
  
"You are my protector, I am why you are here."  
  
"Protector?"  
  
"You and the Vampire."  
  
"Spike?" Buffy was far too weary to be adding two and two.  
  
"I will help you," the girls said quietly, " but you must rest. You will have your answers."  
  
"But I need to find him. My love," Buffy whispered, mesmerized by the  
  
beautiful young girl. The Peacemaker smiled.  
  
"Drink," she girl whispered, placing a chalice to Buffy's lips. Buffy drank deep, feeling the sweet fluid course down her throat, light the fire in her veins. The child awoke, kicking with delight. Buffy coughed at the sudden outburst, chuckling softly.  
  
" I guess were both thirsty," Buffy said. "What was that?"  
  
The Peacemaker smiled serenely. "Sleep now," she whispered, kissing Buffy's cheek so tenderly and laying a hand on her belly. The baby instantly calmed and Buffy could feel the child curl into a peaceful ball inside of her.  
  
Buffy drifted off, wrapped in the young girl's arms.  
  
*****  
  
This time, when Spike was forced through the door, he found himself in  
  
nothing even remotely resembling a room. On the contrary, it was a huge  
  
meadow with tall, ancient trees scattered along the landscape. He felt  
  
different. He coughed and found that he had air in his lungs. His heart was racing in his chest. The duster was long gone, replaced by the black silk suit he had worn to Tara's funeral. Everything was different.  
  
He walked into the sunlit meadow seeing thousands of grayish blocks in the distance. Slowly he headed toward the area, feeling the warmth on his face, closing his eyes and noticing the soft caress of the wind on his cheeks, the rustle of the leaves as they blew softly to the ground. The feelings were completely new and completely familiar all at once. This was the world he could not touch. The world that was only a distant memory now. The world where he and Buffy had been together and had been right.  
  
Spike came closer to the speckled horizon and noticed that the blocks were not random boulders on the English countryside of his youth. They were stones. Headstones to be exact. At least a thousand of them lined in neat, well kept rows. He smelled flowers. In his hands were clutched two bouquets. One large arrangement of white lilies. One small collection of tiny daisies. A shiver spontaneously crept up his spine.  
  
He came upon the stones and looked down at the first row. Name upon endless name. Date upon endless date as he walked the rows. None of them meant anything to him. Just names and dates and angels and crosses and little trinkets left by those who loved the departed. And then he came to the large Rowan tree.  
  
There were two perfect marble stones, side by side. One larger, one  
  
smaller. Spike kneeled between them before he even realized what he was  
  
doing, settling the flowers in their proper place. His eyes focused and  
  
what he saw was too much to bear.  
  
"Buffy Anne Windsor. Beloved wife and mother. Dear friend and  
  
Savior."  
  
Spike scanned right at the smaller stone.  
  
"Emma Joyce Windsor. Beloved daughter. Miracle."  
  
His eyes filled with tears. Even if this wasn't real, it would be. This was his future. He had always known that living with humans carried the most painful price of all. One day he would bury them all. He would bury his beloved. He would bury his child. He would tend to their graves until the world ceased to exist, but would never lay with them.  
  
Spike fell forward onto the grass, bowing to the Earth. Begging her to take him back, to let him live like her and die like her and never have to tend another grave again. To never have to read his daughter's name in marble, for it is so unnatural for a parent to outlive a child. To give him another chance to make this right. He begged the soil, the tree, the marble, the sky with every tear he had left. But she would never make him whole. He was a demon, wasn't he? Not to be given the grace of a God he had been forced to reject. He begged all the same.  
  
A hand rested softly on his shoulder. Spike lifted his head, his face  
  
covered with tears and chiseled with grief. An withered woman stood behind him, stooped with age and lined with wisdom. "You loved them," the woman said, kneeling down next to Spike as if in a pew at church. "You still love them."  
  
"Every day," he whispered, his voice breaking, the tears stinging his skin.  
  
"Grief is what makes us all alike," she said, holding his hand in hers. She was kind, he thought.  
  
"I suppose it is," Spike answered, his hand brushing over the headstones.  
  
"That's my son over there," the old woman said, pointing at a cross a few markers away. "He was 18 when he died."  
  
"I. I am so sorry," Spike muttered, feeling he actually meant it. "That is so young to pass. How did he die?"  
  
The old woman looked at Spike softly, compassionately. "You don't know  
  
where you are, do you?"  
  
Spike thought for a moment. In all honesty, he did not. "No," he answered simply.  
  
"This is yours, Spike. You made this."  
  
"What do you mean?" Spike asked, fear gripping him. The old lady's hand  
  
tightened around his, not in a threatening manner, more as a brace against a storm.  
  
"The stones in this garden," the woman said softly, " are lives that you  
  
took. Except for these two." She gestured at the marble stones in front of her. "They were taken from you."  
  
"Wha?" Spike stuttered, scanning the field. There were thousands of  
  
stones. Thousands.  
  
"Every stone, every marker, represents one life that you took in order to survive. Each one you drained the life from. Including my son." The woman stated simply. Spike pulled his hand away in disgust, not with her, but with himself. He stood, staring, spinning, looking at the sheer number of markers in this place. The magnitude of lives that he had taken. He began to shake, to panic, his human heart pounding into his ribcage.  
  
The old woman stood again, her eyes looking directly into his. "You killed my son," she said calmly, her hands on his shoulders. "You took him from me. " Spike was puzzled. She was not angry, she was not yelling. She just told him. Somehow that was worse.  
  
"I..." he stuttered. He wanted to scream, 'I didn't mean it'. But he had. He wanted to say that that is what vampires are supposed to do. But he knew now they didn't have to. He had killed him, he killed all of them, because he *wanted* to. Because he could. Because he was a monster.  
  
"Madam, I am sorry," Spike said, mustering whatever dignity he could. "I have no excuse. I am sorry I killed your son. That you are here. That you are feeling... this."  
  
The woman's face softened. "You loved them," she said again, gesturing at the stones.  
  
"Always."  
  
"They changed you."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are you truly sorry for this?"  
  
Spike thought for a long moment. He had never really thought too much about it. He killed to eat. Like a hunter. He didn't kill to torture, to hurt anyone's mother or wife, or husband or child. That was the problem. He hadn't really thought at all.  
  
He closed his eyes, imagining the countless times he fangs sank into human flesh, stealing its essence and making it his own. Leaving the body where he had found it. Then he allowed himself to think of the person who found the body. Had they reacted like Buffy when her mum died? Had they hurt like he had when he saw her body on the pile of rubble? Did they die as well like Willow had done when she buried her lover? He multiplied every life he took by those he destroyed and the weight nearly crushed him. Tears streamed down his face.  
  
"I am truly, deeply sorry," he whispered, his head dropping back to the  
  
ground, his face feeling like it might drown in the tears, his head explode with the sudden magnitude of what his unlife had amounted to.  
  
"And this girl, she loved you knowing this?" the woman said, nodding at  
  
Buffy's headstone.  
  
Spike nodded. "She did," he said. "She knew and she loved me. In her own way."  
  
"And you child?"  
  
Spike smiled. He wasn't sure how he knew. "She adored me."  
  
"She forgave you." The old woman said. "So have I."  
  
Spike stared at the woman quizzically. "How in the world can you forgive me? How can anyone forgive me for this?" he screamed, spinning, his arms out to his sides.  
  
"Because she did. Because people change. Because forgiveness is all we have to bind us. Forgiveness and grief. The question is, can you forgive yourself?" the old woman said, running her whizzened palm along his cheek.  
  
"Thank you," he whispered, the tears streaming fresh on his cheeks. She  
  
patted her hand against his face and smiled.  
  
"Make peace," she whispered, and walked away.  
  
To be contd. 


	11. Heart and Soul

Title: Heart and Soul - New Life Part 11.  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox  
  
etc..... Just borrowing.  
  
Summary: The Scoobies try to figure out a way to save Buffy. Buffy gets  
  
closer to finding Spike. Spike is forced to face the consequences of his demon soul.  
  
Heart and Soul  
  
Giles dropped the book onto the familiar round table in the Magic Box.  
  
"I've been through the Tarangi texts three times now," he said, frustration rushing out with his breath. Anya, Xander and Tara looked up from their respective research. "And I see the point. I understand *how* this can happen now." The frustration was spelled out in the lines of his furrowed brow. "But there does not seem to be any indication of how to prevent..."  
  
"Maybe four's a charm," Tara interrupted, banishing negativity with one  
  
serene smile.  
  
Giles nervously smiled back at the girl. "I'm not saying that there is no way. Only that it is not here."  
  
"Has anyone talked to Will?" Xander asked, fidgeting with the pages of the book in front of him. No one really wanted to have her so intimately connected with them. She wasn't one of them anymore. But other than Giles, she was the most likely to crack this mystery. Right now, patience was more important than pride.  
  
"I'll call her," Giles said, rising from his seat and heading across the  
  
room toward the phone.  
  
*****  
  
Buffy's eyes flickered open. Leaves were falling all around her like pale green snow. The sleep had awakened her. The drink had made her stronger. The girl had comforted her. Spike was alive. In her heart, she knew it.  
  
A rustle in the leaves startled Buffy into reality. The girl ducked under the thick canopy holding the chalice in one hand, and an object wrapped in cloth in the other. As the girl came closer, she unwrapped the cloth to unveil a large chunk of bread. Where was the girl finding this stuff?, Buffy thought. She worried, nibbling her lip, wondering if it was even OK to eat.  
  
At this point, she rationalized, she would die of starvation if she did  
  
not take the chance.  
  
The girl leaned down, helping Buffy up and feeding her the bread. Buffy had no idea exactly how hungry she had been until the food slid down her throat and the first taste of it set her stomach into a storm of growls. She ate every bite, savoring the taste of honey that had been spread thinly over the meal. The drink was like nectar and she could feel the strength burning back into her muscles.  
  
"Thank you," Buffy said as the girl helped her to her feet. The Peacemaker was just a bit taller than Buffy, and even in the relative daylight, she glowed with an eerie incandescent beauty. She was so familiar. So dear and sweet and light. She had no clue why she trusted the girl, felt comfort, felt joy in her presence. The simple fact was, she did. Just as she felt when she was near Spike.  
  
"Are you going to tell me who you are and why you are helping me?" Buffy asked, slipping into interrogation mode. The girl simply smiled.  
  
"I thought I had answered that much last night," she remarked, leading Buffy from under the tangle of branches. The girl's small fingers were twined in Buffy's like the yin and yang. The match of two kindred hearts.  
  
"Well, you said something all-knowing like about being the Peacemaker and about Spike and me protecting you. But it doesn't make much sense." They stepped out into the full sunlight and began to walk again.  
  
"You will have your answers," the girl repeated the words she had said the night before.  
  
"When?" Buffy asked simply.  
  
"Are you always this difficult to those who try and help you?" the girl  
  
asked, looking at Buffy and smiling almost sarcastically.  
  
Buffy thought for a moment and smiled back. "Yeah"  
  
*****  
  
"Willow?"  
  
"Yes?" she answered, surprised to hear Giles on the other end of the phone.  
  
"I'm afraid that we have hit a dead end of sorts with ... well, with the  
  
situation with Buffy." Giles stuttered, not really knowing exactly what to say. The other end of the phone was silent for a long moment.  
  
"Will you let me help?" a broken female voice asked. Giles could almost see the tears on the redhead's cheeks as they spoke.  
  
"Please," Giles said simply.  
  
"I think I have some information that might help. Not much though. Should I come there?"  
  
Giles looked over at the table to find his three charges staring silently at him. Desperation set in. "Yes, that will be fine. Please bring whatever you have with you."  
  
"I'll be there in half an hour," Willow answered, hanging up the phone  
  
before Giles could change his mind.  
  
*****  
  
Spike walked the rows of tombstones for what seemed like an eternity.  
  
Staring at names. Staring at dates. The enormity of his hunger, his demon, was overwhelming. God, some of them were so young, he thought. Even younger than I. He stopped at every one, silently asking for forgiveness. The one thing he never dreamed to have. What the old woman had said stuck in his mind. Even if every one of these people, every one their death effected, could say that they forgave him, that they understood *why*, could he forgive himself?  
  
He walked past the tombstone of a man. Roger Davis. 1860-1889. Next to him was Susanna Humphries. 1865-1889. Spike stopped, remembering a pair of star crossed lovers he had killed in London in a fit of hunger and fear and frustration. They were in an alley, their lips pressing hungrily together, their hands entwined in a lover's knot. When Spike had fed on Roger, Susanna had not moved. She stood, paralyzed by fear. And when he was through and approached the girl, she offered her neck. He was full and had intended to let her go. But she offered her creamy white neck to him.  
  
Spike had asked her why. Because there is no life without him, she had  
  
answered. And he drank for mercy. She had felt for her lover how Spike now felt for Buffy. How he dreamed that Buffy felt for him. In that act, he had killed them both.  
  
Every stone had a name, but not every one had a face. The fact that he  
  
could not remember even a fraction of the lives he stole was almost worse than the killing. His once dead heart ached at every marble remembrance. At every well tended plot. At every flower on every grave and he thought about what he had done. It did not take a soul to realize the meaning of it all. Only a heart.  
  
"How you feeling, pal?" Luke said, stepping into the meadow. Spike had  
  
wound his way back to where he had begun. He always ended up back at  
  
Buffy's feet. Spike looked at the hell god and saw emptiness. The nature of the beast.  
  
There was no answer to Luke's question. Spike did not know how he was  
  
feeling. He did not know where one emotion ended and the next began. It was a knot of despair and mourning and loss and desperation and yearning. He needed Buffy. Needed to fall into her arms and break into a thousand tiny pieces. She should have staked him years ago. He should have let her.  
  
"Well, I'll take that as a 'Just fine, Luke. Ready to go hang out on the wall.'," Luke said, grabbing Spike's elbow and yanking him away from the graves of his love and their child. Spike was too broken to resist. He deserved to hang there until the world came to an end.  
  
*****  
  
"When I was researching the texts," Willow began, "I thought that since no Slayer had survived this... situation... there was probably nothing there about how to help them survive. No one knows."  
  
"Will, on to the positive stuff," Xander said, rolling his hand for her to continue.  
  
"Right," the redhead answered. "So, I did the only thing I could think of and went back to plain old mid-wifing." Willow opened a text in front of her. "In the old days, before hospitals and stuff, women had their babies in their caves or huts or homes even. So, I researched some of the methods used to ensure safe births.."  
  
"Willow," Tara said softly, "This is not an ordinary birth though. Do you think that a basic ritual will have any effect?"  
  
"Well," Willow began, "No. But what I did find was a protection spell that was used in births involving high priestesses in Europe. The mortality rate among these women and their children had been very high due to the intense magical involvement. But once the spell was tapped into, it all but stopped. I know it is not *exactly* the same, but it is the closest I could come." She finished, pushing the book towards Giles.  
  
Giles pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and stared down at the printed page, absorbing the words into his mind. He thought for a moment, his eyes growing wider by the word.  
  
"Wha..What is it, Giles?" Tara said. She had watched him nervously,  
  
feeling his concern radiate from every pore.  
  
Giles looked up from the book. "The spell," he began, "may well be  
  
effective. However it is very complicated and can only be performed by  
  
females and in the company of females. Which, I'm afraid, leaves me out."  
  
"And me," Xander contributed. "Being not so female.... and not so magical."  
  
"Well, I don't want to see a smushy, red, slimy baby. I want to see it when it's clean and smells like soap," Anya contributed.  
  
"Quite all right, Anya," Giles said. "The magics are far to intricate for anyone but a very powerful sorceress." All eyes turned to Willow.  
  
"I can do this, Giles," the redheaded girl said,  
  
"I know you can," Giles answered, "but do we trust you to do it is the  
  
bigger issue."  
  
The room was silent. No. They didn't. But Willow was the only one of them strong enough to pull it off. Tara had understandably shied away from magic since Willow had gone mad. Willow was a natural. "I need to help," Willow said simply. "If I can save Buffy and her baby, then maybe it will help make up for... Help you believe me..."  
  
Tears streamed down her face for the thousandth time that day. Always  
  
tears. Xander and Anya looked down. Tara was torn between comfort and  
  
fear. Giles sighed painfully. "You understand, Willow, that this spell  
  
involved invoking Gaea herself. Mother Earth. Connecting with one of the single most powerful sources and accepting what she takes from you in payment."  
  
"Yes," Willow answered. " I can do it. I have to do it, Giles."  
  
"Right then. Anya, please start collecting the supplies on this page."  
  
"Who's going to pay for them?" Anya asked, taking the book. Xander looked at her, shaking his head.  
  
"Put them on my tab," Giles answered. "Willow, you will need help. Tara?"  
  
"I will be there," Tara answered, smiling softly at Willow. Willow looked down, a blush of hope on her cheeks.  
  
"What about me?" Xander asked.  
  
"You and I need to patrol and then baby sit," Giles said, beginning to rise from the chair again.  
  
"The manly and the not so manly," Xander responded, getting up with him.  
  
"Oh, Giles?" Willow said, touching the man's hand as he passed her chair.  
  
"What is it Willow?" Giles responded, stopping next to her.  
  
Willow reached into her backpack and fished out a desk. " I found this  
  
while I was doing research and got a really funny feeling from it."  
  
"What is it?" Giles asked, turning it over in his hands.  
  
"It's a computer disk," Anya said, looking over Giles' shoulder as she  
  
walked past.  
  
"I know that, Anya," Giles retorted. Anya shrugged, walking off.  
  
"It..it was one of Jenny's," Willow said softly. A dark cloud seemed to  
  
settle over the Watcher's face at just the sound of her name. "She was into some very not so mainstream, not so mainstream magical stuff. Anyway, when I was looking for information for Buffy, I cross referenced something odd called Pax. I remembered seeing this in Jenny's files. I looked through her disk and found a file labeled Pax. I tried to read it, but Jenny had only translated the first paragraph or two. Looks like she thought it had something to do with Angel."  
  
"Some kind of prophecy?" Giles asked, flipping the yellow disk over in his hand.  
  
"Hard to say," Willow answered. "It is in some sort of runes I haven't seen much of before and I could not find a translation matrix. But I read what she had gone through so far, and I don't think it was about Angel. She may have thought it was, but she translated a word wrong."  
  
"What do you mean, Will?" Xander asked, looking down at her.  
  
"It starts out talking about nobility... blah blah... prophesy that will  
  
change the course of all worlds... blah blah... end the wars between the  
  
dimensions. Bridge the gap between man and beast. Then a lot that had no translation. Then a bit about a vampire. Jenny had translated the section 'and he of the kingdom of the undead, the vampire with a soul, will help bring forth...', but when I looked at it, I recognized one word. Saw it somewhere else before."  
  
"Which one?" Tara asked.  
  
"Soul." Willow answered. "It doesn't read 'the vampire with a soul.'"  
  
"What does it read?" Xander asked, leaning on the back of Willow's chair.  
  
"The vampire with a 'heart'," she answered.  
  
"Spike."  
  
to be contd. 


	12. The Rules of the Game

Title: The Rules of the Game. (New Life - pt 12)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Buffy reaches her destination. Will she be able to rescue Spike and leave Hell?  
  
The Rules of the Game  
  
Buffy clung to the girl's hand as if it were the only thing tethering her to her sanity. It seemed so odd. The Peacemaker was younger, small almost to the point of being frail, but she seemed to carry the wisdom and strength of countless centuries in her eyes. Those pretty, ancient, blue eyes.  
  
"I will take you to the door," the Peacemaker whispered in her melodic  
  
voice, "but you will have to go the distance on your own."  
  
"You know where the red house is? You know where Spike is?" Buffy asked, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest.  
  
"Yes," the girl replied simply.  
  
"Is he... alive... I mean.."  
  
"Yes," she said again. "But he is changed Buffy. This place changes  
  
everyone."  
  
"How?" Buffy stuttered. A million thoughts went through her head. He's  
  
changed. He's evil. He wants to stay here. He doesn't care anymore. He doesn't love me. Doesn't love us. Yet another one Buffy scared away.  
  
"He's breaking," the Peacemaker answered quietly. The words sounded like heartbreak must sound. The girl looked up, staring at the surreal blue sky.  
  
"Breaking?" Buffy asked. "Like into pieces?"  
  
The girl smiled despite herself. "Not quite. If a demon enters this place and refuses its ways, Luke breaks the demon. Takes its reluctance and plays it like a lyre."  
  
"Ok, where I'm from that is not an answer," Buffy retorted.  
  
"Luke has shown Spike things. Done things to try and break what it is that keeps him from his demon soul."  
  
"Like?" Buffy asked, stepping over a large screaming rock. Funny how she barely noticed the screaming now.  
  
"His heart," the girl answered.  
  
"His... heart?"  
  
"Spike," the Peacemaker began, "is truly a Vampire. No human soul, as you know it. But he has done something that few other Vampires, no other Vampires, have been able to do."  
  
"What?" Buffy asked, wide-eyed. " I mean other than..." She looked down at her bulging abdomen.  
  
"Choose to tame the beast. Choose to live like a human. Choose to deny his true nature and let his heart, his vulnerability rise above. His love, Buffy, not just for you but for humanity is killing the demon soul. Replacing it with something else. Quite successfully at that, I might add."  
  
Buffy stopped, looking at the girl for a long moment. "So, he's becoming more human?"  
  
"He's made a choice," the girl answered, "that his heart, his love, you, are more important than his basic self. He can never be truly human. But he has chosen to behave that way of his own will. Luke knows this and Luke also knows that breaking his heart is the key."  
  
"I'm not sure I understand all of this. Not everything." Buffy stuttered. Hunger, anticipation, fear, clouding her mind.  
  
"You will have your answers, but there are more important things to tend  
  
to." With that, the enormous red mansion appeared in front of them. Buffy stared at it in awe and terror, her hand clutching tighter around the girl's fingers.  
  
"What do I have to do?" Buffy asked, her fear being overcome by resolution. He was here. He was alive. She could feel him.  
  
"There are few rules," the Peacemaker said, placing her hand on the Slayer's chin and turning Buffy's faces towards hers. "There will not be much of a fight. You are not the Slayer here. Your strength will win you no battles."  
  
"So what then?" Buffy asked. Afraid. Frustrated. Impatient.  
  
"Be strong. Be courageous. Be honest. Those are your weapons. Remember that little of what you see here is real. When the time comes, you will know the answer."  
  
Buffy nodded, not really understanding but desperate to get underway.  
  
Gently, she lifted her skirt to start up the stairs.  
  
"Buffy?" the girl called after her.  
  
"Yeah," Buffy answered, craning her head.  
  
"Sometimes you have to make a deal with the devil. Make sure to ask for his word in blood. Luke is a terrible liar."  
  
Buffy nodded, again, not quite understanding. Didn't matter much. Spike was in there. He needed her. Buffy climbed the stairs to the front door and looked back. The Peacemaker was gone.  
  
*****  
  
Spike hung bonelessly against the chains. No witty banter. No daring plans for escape. No wishing for rescue. Who was he fooling? He got his good and proper sentence and this is where he'd stay. Not demon enough to be here, not human enough for salvation. That's what you get for straddling the fence, mate, he thought.  
  
Something moved in the dark basement. Spike's eyes slowly opened, but  
  
nothing was there. He let them swim shut again. Probably some little hell beastie in the shadows waiting for an opportune moment to rip apart my hide, he thought.  
  
He smelled vanilla and his eyes flickered open again. Nothing. Emptiness.  
  
"Spike?" A restless whisper in his ear. Warm breath on his cheek. The  
  
girl.  
  
"Where are you, love?" he whispered, feeling quite insane speaking to the thick, dank air.  
  
"Do not talk," she said and he felt his restraints loosen. Unseen hands  
  
held his arms in place. "Do not move. When the time comes, you can pull free." She felt him begin to speak, the lightning rumble in his throat before the words were formed. "Do not speak," she chastised. His mouth snapped shut. "She is here. Luke will have her soon. There is no way to avoid it, I'm afraid. He will bring her here to hurt you both. She will be very, very frightened." Spike's face slackened. Not this. This he could not bear. "No matter what you see, Spike, you must go. Without hesitation. Do you understand?"  
  
Spike moved again to speak, but thought better of it. Slowly, he nodded.  
  
"Trust me," the girl whispered.  
  
*****  
  
Buffy stood in front of the door, staring at the heavy wood. The shade of red. It was nothing she had ever seen in nature. Should she knock? Barge in? Was there a doorbell? Fear had always set off stupid questions and sarcastic remarks in her mind. Defense mechanism. If you can't slay it, annoy it to death.  
  
The question answered itself as the heavy door creaked on its hinges and a small man in a red suit appeared. Like a tiny evil Santa, Buffy  
  
thought, realizing how odd it was before she even finished thinking it.  
  
"Ms. Summers?" the little man said.  
  
"You can call me Buffy," she answered.  
  
"Please come in," Evil mini Santa stepped from the door, allowing her safe passage. Well, passage, at least.  
  
The entrance hall was enormous. Marble floors covered in red carpet. Odd statues in even odder poses along the corridor. Enormous mirrors on every wall. The house gave off a strange vibration, one that made the dragon coiled around her spine squeeze that much tighter and that made her child stir within her womb.  
  
"This way please," the man said. Buffy did not really want to follow, but trying to fight the little man who had said nothing but pleasantries and politeness didn't really seem the optimal thing to do. Slowly, she padded barefoot after him, her toes sinking into the carpet. It felt sticky, like blood.  
  
"Where are we going?" Buffy asked as they weaved through halls and  
  
corridors, past room after endless room. If nothing else, the trip was  
  
making her feet ache and keeping her from remembering which way was out.  
  
"Master Luke would like to see you now."  
  
"Wasn't he that Star Wars guy," Buffy chuckled. Why did such random things go through her head?, she wondered.  
  
The little man stopped, shooting a warning glance at her that, at his  
  
height, sizzled right about chest high. " The master does not take kindly to jokes."  
  
"Oh," Buffy said, nodding sarcastically. "My bad."  
  
They stopped at a room with an enormous set of double doors. Red, of  
  
course. The man had no originality. "Wait here," evil Santa said, darting into the room. She could hear humble murmurings and various and assorted groveling before the doors swung completely open.  
  
The room looked as if it had been stolen from a honeymoon suite in Vegas. Enormous red plush couches. Heart shaped bed. Fireplaces glowing in each corner of the room. Ooh, and even a martini glass shaped hot tub. Always a sign of class.  
  
Buffy stood in the doorway. Suddenly, just like everything else in this  
  
dimension, a man appeared in front of her. He was tall, beautifully built, with short rakish dark hair, long black eyelashes and deep brown eyes. His suit was well fitted and clung to him in almost an undeniably appealing way. Not at all what she had been expecting. Guess it makes sense that a hell god is hot, Buffy thought. She groaned at herself.  
  
"Hi," Luke said, stretching out his hand. "I'm Luke and I'm guessing you're Buffy."  
  
"Master of the obvious," she said, avoiding his hand.  
  
"Just as impolite as your little Vamp," Luke said, grabbing Buffy's  
  
shoulder. At first the touch was gentle, but he began to squeeze until she felt a pop and a sharp pain radiate down her arm. She wrenched herself away.  
  
"Speaking of, " Buffy began, trying to ignore the fact that she thought that her arm might spontaneously fall off her shoulder. "I'd kind of like to see him."  
  
"What makes you think I'll let you?" Luke asked.  
  
Buffy thought for a moment. Because I need to tell him I love him? Because I need to see his face? Because my baby needs a father? Buffy chuckled to herself. How well would that go over? "Because I want to kick his ass for leaving me high and dry with his little demon spawn." Buffy answered.  
  
"Might like you after all," Luke said. Buffy sighed imperceptibly with  
  
relief. "This way,"  
  
Luke chattered incessantly as they walked through the maze of corridors.  
  
About humans and the Earth and how sorry all the little pansies were for  
  
living there. How Willie, which Buffy finally figured out was Spike, was an even bigger pansy because he chose to be a wussy-little-human-wanna-be rather than be true to his breed. Buffy agreed with Luke on every count. If it would help her find Spike, she would agree to Martha Stewart being a hell god from a neighboring dimension and chicken snot being a tasty appetizer. Hmm... food.  
  
Finally, they came to a dark brown oak door. Luke stopped and Buffy skidded to a halt next to him, almost too caught up in agreeing with his little tirade to notice. "This is our stop," Luke said, putting his hand on the knob. Buffy exhaled, her heart racing as if she was about to go on her first date. Long past that, she thought, hand instinctively pressing on her belly, feeling the baby throw a right hook into her palm. Buffy looked up at Luke and saw his countenance shift from annoying but basically pleasant to something dark, hollow, empty.  
  
"Think I believe a word you say, bi**h," Luke said. Buffy felt a sharp pain at the back of her skull and crumpled to the floor.  
  
To be contd. 


	13. Devil's Jeopardy

Title: Devil's Jeopardy (New Life- pt 13)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Buffy and Spike find each other at last. But it is not the reunion either of them had hoped for.  
  
Devil's Jeopardy  
  
Two little men in red suits burst through the door in the basement. Spike looked up from his perch against the wall, every nerve on edge, expecting anything, everything terrible. The Peacemaker had left, or at least she was silent. He couldn't tell anymore. His senses were too busy humming with anticipation to pick up her scent.  
  
Luke followed the little men, wiping his hands with a washcloth that had  
  
turned a deep crimson. Spike tried to smell the air, but he couldn't focus. Damn, he couldn't get a sodding grip on anything. A procession of little red suit-wearing leprechauns followed Luke like the lollipop guild gone awry. The last two were dragging something. Spike leaned, straining against the darkness to sense anything.  
  
"Oops, need some light?" Luke said, clapping his hands, fires spontaneously igniting all around the room.  
  
Spike's jaw dropped and it was everything he could do to keep the facade  
  
that he was still chained. The last two little red demons were dragging  
  
her. He could barely make her out across the room, but he could see she was barefoot and covered in dirt, a steady line of blood dripping crimson down her neck, staining the back of her dress. Spike closed his eyes and tried to focus, stop the raging inside him. "This isn't real," he whispered to himself. Then, he caught the Peacemaker's scent.  
  
"This *is* real," the girl whispered in his ear. "But you mustn't move."  
  
Spike bit down hard on his lip, trying to distract himself. Trying to force down the demon that was struggling to the surface, struggling to surge off the wall in a frenzy of fury and strike down every one of those bloody little men and destroy their horrific little master. "This is what he wants," the girl whispered. "She is alive."  
  
The Vampire closed his eyes again and tried to tune out the scuffling of the men, the incessant cackling of his host, the crackling of the fires. He caught the sound and pulled it to him, tuning his senses only to her. Spike heard the rain in his head. Slow and soft like spring. They were alive.  
  
"Slayer meet Vampire. Vampire meet Slayer," Luke said as the two little men in the rear dragged Buffy's battered body into the center of the room, dropping her directly in Spike' s line of sight. Spike clenched his fists, pulsing them, trying to control his rage. She was lying in a ball on the floor. The wound on her head did not seem to be that bad, but had been enough to set her unconscious. There were cuts and claw marks on her legs and her arm hung at a strange angle dangling above the floor.  
  
It amazed him how tiny she really was. Other than the swell of her belly, her arms and legs were gaunt, her neck hollowed deep, her skin pale and sad. Almost as if she had died as well. Still, she was beautiful. Everything about her was perfect. Even at her worst, she still made his heart ache and his body tremble.  
  
"But I guess you two have met," Luke said, walking over to Buffy on the  
  
floor. Luke kicked her in the back. Spike roared, yanking against the  
  
chains. Invisible hands rushed to press Spike back into the wall. The  
  
pressure was enough to remind him and he stopped pulling, debating whether or not the Peacemaker's little plan was worth this.  
  
Buffy stirred at the feel of the boot in her kidney. Her head was swimming and her body felt like it had been through a hamburger grinder. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the relative darkness, but they flickered open all the same, staring at a pair of perfectly shined cowboy boots.  
  
She let out a whimper, pressing her hands to the dirt and immediately  
  
lifting the pressure from her injured arm. Somehow, she managed to pull  
  
herself upright and onto her knees, still trying to focus. The little spot in the back of her skull that usually told her there were vamps nearby was humming and buzzing, but between feeling blood trickle down her neck and being in a room full of demons, she guessed it didn't mean much.  
  
Spike watched her steady herself wanting nothing more than to call her, to run to her, to pick her up and run from here to anywhere. The girl's hands still held his arms and he could hear her cooing calmly in his ear. "Wait. Be patient."  
  
"Wh.where am I?" Buffy said, giving up on even pretending she was not  
  
afraid.  
  
"In the pits of Hell where naughty little girls who sleep with demons  
  
belong," Luke answered.  
  
"Oh. You could really use a dustbuster," Buffy said, beginning to scan the room with her eyes. Spike had to smile. Some things about her would never change. At least he hoped not. Still, the smell of her fear, her pain, her anguish was telling a different story than her snarky little ways. He knew her better than that.  
  
"Well", Luke responded. "All together at last." Luke tipped his head to the right and Buffy followed his eyes along the wall, gaining focus as she went. When she saw the blonde hair against the darkness of the wall, her vision snapped to clarity and her eyes honed in on his form.  
  
"Spike?" she yelped, trying to get up onto her feet.  
  
"Not so fast," Luke said, planting his hand on her dislocated shoulder and pushing her back to her knees. She cried out in pain.  
  
"Get.Off.Of.Her," Spike said slowly, calmly, his hands pulsing again. There was acid in his voice. His blood screaming in his veins. The unseen hands still pressed to his wrists. He looked at Buffy and his faced softened immediately. Luke loosened his grip, but kept her on her knees. "Hello, Love." Spike said to her. Tears began rolling down her face.  
  
Buffy struggled to get out from under Luke, to get to Spike, but the girl had been right. Her powers were nothing here. She was just a girl.  
  
"Spike," she cried out, struggling still, feeling her arm burning under  
  
Luke's hand. The soulful wail of her voice almost split his heart in two and shattered his resolve. He yanked the chains again, but the girl held him steady. Strong for a vision, he thought.  
  
"It'll be OK, Pet," Spike said, trying to comfort her. Buffy was sobbing now. He could not bear to see it, but he was afraid to take her eyes from her or she might disappear.  
  
"This is all very sweet, but I think we need to have a little talk," Luke said. Buffy stared at him through tired and swimming eyes. She felt as if she might fall back into darkness any moment. She took a deep breath and stilled herself, turning her attention to Luke. Luke pulled his hand from her shoulder and walked a few steps back.  
  
"What do you want to talk about?" Buffy asked.  
  
"What are we going to do about this? Can't have so many uninvited guests... Well, maybe I can make a little room upstairs for *you*," Luke chattered.  
  
"Let the Slayer go." Spike said slowly, measuring his voice.  
  
"No, Spike. I didn't come all the way out here to leave without you," Buffy retorted.  
  
"Well, I was volunteering, Pet. Just being all chivalrous and the like," the Vampire sputtered.  
  
"Spike do we have to do this right now?" Buffy said, as the dance began. They could not be in a room together for five minutes under any  
  
circumstances without fighting, shagging, or both. All of it was just part of the wonderful, terrible, loving, passionate energy that  
  
crackled between them every minute of every day.  
  
"Enough!" Luke hollered, slapping his hands over his ears. "Maybe I should let you both go so I don't have to *ever* listen to you again." Buffy and Spike both looked hopeful for just a moment. "Nah, that would be no fun. Here's the deal. One of you stays. The other can go."  
  
"Well, that's bloody stupid mate. I'm already here. Let her go."  
  
"Spike?!"  
  
"Shut.Up" Luke snapped the crack in his voice shaking the room. The mini Evil Santas jumped at the sound. Buffy's mouth clapped shut. Spike paused mid word, mouth wide open. "My dimension, my rules," Luke continued, shrugging his shoulders and shuddering as if trying to get comfortable in his own skin. "Now, I know where nancy boy Willie over here stands, so let's hear it from the girl."  
  
"Like.I.Said. Let the Slayer....."  
  
"Did I *not* just tell you to shut up?" Luke whined, spinning toward the Vampire. He raised his arm and a blue flame shot from his fingertips impacting Spike's chest and pinning him back to the wall. Buffy could see it pierce the skin just over his heart and she let out a yelp, hopping to her feet. The horde of Keebler elves forced her back to her knees before she could take another step.  
  
Spike's body was shaking and seizing against the wall, the chains rattling against the stone. A pained roar escaped his lips and Buffy struggled whimpering to break herself free. "STOP..." Luke wouldn't pay her any attention. Buffy picked up a stone from the floor flinging it as hard as she could with her human strength, and smacking Luke in the elbow. The current stopped.  
  
"Feisty little bi**h, aren't you?" Luke began to stride toward Buffy. His eyes were hollow, empty. Buffy's heart raced in her chest trying to think of what to do next.  
  
"What did I tell you about calling her names, mate?" Spike hoarsely called, trying to interrupt Luke's angry walk to his love. Luke turned back toward the Vampire and lifted his arm.  
  
"*Stop this*!" Buffy snapped. "What do you want to hear?" Her voice was a torrent of anger and hurt and fear. The sound of it swirled around her, rushing over Spike, stinging his skin.  
  
"Now *that's* more like it," Luke replied, rubbing his sparkling hands  
  
together. "Little girl, it's your call. I'll take 'Who Stays In The Hell Dimension for $500, Alex', you say? So, Buffy. What's it going to be and why?"  
  
Buffy was absolutely silent. Her head dropped slowly toward the floor and she watched the red dust swirl at her knees. Pictures raced thought her mind. Dawn. Giles. Willow. Xander. Tara. Anya. Who would watch them? Who would take care of them? Luke was determined to keep her from Spike. To keep her from making things right. God, the little girl inside her. If she stays, the baby sees this awful place as home. Grows up without ever seeing Buffy's world. If she goes, her daughter has no father and a mom who will be dead in the next five years. Ye olde expiration date. We're comin to get you, Buff.  
  
And Spike. How many times had he been willing to die for her? Her sister? Her friends? He didn't owe any of them anything. How many times did he say 'I love you' and get nothing. No proof. No reason to stay. But he stayed.  
  
Always. Every day.  
  
Buffy lifted her head and looked at him and it dawned on her in that moment that there really wasn't' any life for her without him. That love was not a word but an all-encompassing connection that bound people no matter where they were, no matter what happened to them. She loved him with every fiber of her being, soul or no soul. What he gave her was more than she could ever return.  
  
Spike watched her, pleading her to take her chance. His eyes were endless cerulean seas, ebbing and flowing and dancing in firelight. She could get lost in there. She was so lost. Buffy could hear his thoughts, his voice, in her head. "Buffy, go. Run, Pet"  
  
She dragged her eyes off of Spike and looked up at Luke, tears streaming  
  
down her cheeks. "Open the portal and I'll give you my answer."  
  
To be contd. 


	14. Letting Go

Title: Letting Go (New Life- pt 14)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Buffy makes a choice that could effect all of their lives. Buffy and Spike both suffer the consequences.  
  
Letting Go  
  
Luke looked quizzically at Buffy. "What makes you think I will open the  
  
portal before you answer my question?" he said, walking toward Buffy.  
  
"Love, just go, " Spike muttered from the wall. The tears were slow and  
  
steady now on Buffy's cheeks.  
  
"You promised to let one of us go. So, what's the problem with opening the portal first? He's chained. I've got the attack of the killer mini Santas holding me down."  
  
Luke thought for a second. "Alright, suit yourself." He slashed his hand quickly downward and seemed to rip a hole in the air. The hole shimmered blue, glowing, speckles of silver and white dancing from the edges. "Be kinda fun to watch your faces when one of you leaves anyway. I was actually going to be nice and take the other out first, but this works."  
  
"Now," Buffy began still kneeling but suddenly stalwart and resolute. Spike eyed her watching her expression change. He didn't like the look. "Here's the deal. Whichever one of us leaves, the child goes with them. If I go, the baby obviously is going with me. If Spike leaves, then you swear to me, in blood, that when she's born, she goes back to him."  
  
"Why would I do that?" Luke said, sneering at her in wonder.  
  
"Because she's an innocent. She doesn't belong here and you know that  
  
having something that pure in this joint will screw up the whole works."  
  
Spike looked at Buffy and raised his eyebrows. Pretty quick on her feet, he thought.  
  
Luke thought a moment. "Alright. Don't need a screaming brat around here anyway."  
  
"Good," Buffy said, letting out a long breath. She closed her eyes a  
  
moment, her heart beginning to pound against her ribcage, her fear coming back over her in waves. There was really only one choice. She came here to save him. To make it right. "I'll stay."  
  
"Buffy, no. Love, please no." Spike pleaded, pulling forward. The  
  
Peacemaker shushed him quietly from her invisible vantage to his side.  
  
"I came here to bring you home, Spike. I'm not leaving without you. So  
  
you'll just have to leave without me. Sometimes you have to let go." Her voice began to crack and she could barely look at him. The tears streamed quietly down, but she wouldn't sob. This was *her* choice. The *right* choice.  
  
"Why?" Luke said, genuinely curious. Far as he had been concerned, it was open and shut.  
  
"Because," she answered softly. " Spike will be around for our daughter  
  
when I would not be. He will take care of her like he took care of me. He knows more about love than any human I know does. He deserves to be there more than I do."  
  
"Buffy, no. This is where I belong," Spike said. "Evil Vampire, remember? Grr. Scourge of Europe. Go, Pet." He was getting desperate. The portal glimmered and shimmied in front of them.  
  
"Spike, I love you." Buffy whispered. Her huge hazel eyes were swimming in tears. He looked at her for a minute, his head cocking to the side, watching her face. It may have been the most genuine thing she had ever said. Buffy had made up her mind. He knew the look. This was real.  
  
"Go." The Peacemaker said, releasing Spike's wrists. Spike was paralyzed. He couldn't leave her. He wouldn't leave her. Everything in his body wanted to stay there in that moment in those eyes, even if neither of them could ever leave. "*Go!*" the Peacemaker said again, shoving him toward the portal. "Go *home*, Spike," she repeated "Trust."  
  
Spike took one more look at Buffy's eyes, his own tears stinging his face, and jumped.  
  
*****  
  
Tara shuddered, her whole body rocking back on the chair in Buffy's bedroom.  
  
"Tara, what's wrong," Willow said, rushing over to her, putting her hand on her back to steady her.  
  
"I..I don't know. I've been a little sensitive to .. well to everything... since..."  
  
"I know," Willow responded, head dropping to the floor.  
  
"Something happened," Tara said, trying to change the subject.  
  
"What? Do you know?"  
  
"Someone came back."  
  
*****  
  
"Well, that changes everything..." Luke cackled, walking toward Buffy. He stopped a few feet in front of her. She could feel the little evil elves closing in on her, but she didn't struggle. Her heart had broken when he jumped, but somewhere she was glad. It was the only right thing to do.  
  
"What now?" Buffy asked, trying to swallow her fear and face what was to be. She closed her eyes a moment, trying to gain control of her heart. A familiar smell swirled around her and she involuntarily calmed.  
  
"Deal's off," Luke answered. "That baby? Gonna grow up with the demons  
  
*right* here. No apple pies and baseball and trips to the amusement park. It'll learn to love blood. Learn to be everything you *hate*."  
  
"You promised," Buffy responded, knowing it meant nothing.  
  
"I lied," he answered simply.  
  
"What do you plan to do with me?"  
  
"*You*, once you get rid of that little package of yours, belong to me. My personal little caged birdie."  
  
"Please, let the baby go back," Buffy pleaded. Luke was silent.  
  
"If you are very *very* cooperative, I'll think about it."  
  
Buffy sighed, breathing deeply. Her heart was still racing, her lungs still pumping. This is the way it had to go.  
  
"Ask for his promise in blood," a familiar voice whispered in her ear.  
  
Buffy twitched, trying to locate the source of the voice without alerting Luke.  
  
"Promise me you will consider it," Buffy said, looking teary eyed up at  
  
Luke.  
  
"OK. Promise to *consider* it," Luke said, sucker for all things beautiful.  
  
"In blood," Buffy clarified.  
  
Luke looked at her strangely. Buffy felt arms wrap around her from behind, encircling her, hands clasping over her belly. "OK," Luke said, pulling a dagger from his inside suit pocket. Somehow, it did not surprise Buffy that he had one handy. She was more surprised by the invisible arms wrapped tightly around her and the strong smell of vanilla and light, sweet breath against her neck. "You do understand to make a pact binding, we must both be cut."  
  
Buffy was silent. "Answer him," the voice whispered in her ear. "Agree."  
  
"Yes," Buffy said softly, holding her working arm out in front of her like a child asking wordlessly for a treat. Luke stepped over, grabbing her wrist tightly and pulling her hand toward him. She jerked forward, the Peacemaker still tightly latched to her back. Slowly, as if savoring every moment, Luke pushed the point of the dagger into her soft palm, then dragged the blade mercilessly slowly across the meat of her hand. Buffy winced, but held steady as her blood began to seep from the wound and trickle down her arm like a crimson stream.  
  
Luke smiled at Buffy's reaction, loving the pain. Adoring the tears in her eyes. He lived for this. Good choice, Buffy, he thought.  
  
Finally, he lifted the steel from her hands and quickly slashed his own in one quick slice.  
  
"No fair," Buffy squeaked.  
  
"All's fair in love and war. Well, war," Luke responded, reaching toward Buffy.  
  
"Close your eyes," the gentle girl's voice whispered in her ear. Buffy  
  
lined her hand up with Luke's then softly closed her eyes. She felt his  
  
palm touch hers, felt the cool stickiness of his blood, shivering at just the *feel* of him. A drop fell from their clasped hands and the ground ripped open with a resounding crack.  
  
Buffy yelped and the Peacemaker held her tighter, clinging to her whispering to keep her eyes closed. The world began to spin and a strange whooshing noise surrounded them. Buffy felt hot wind on her cheeks and her skin was tingling as if someone had spilled a jar of that muscle ache stuff on her. Her breath felt like it was being sucked from her lungs and her heart nearly exploded from her chest. She wanted to scream, wanted to ask what was happening, but she couldn't speak, couldn't even mutter a sound. Buffy clung to the girl's arms, squeezed her eyes tight and waited.  
  
*****  
  
Spike landed on his knees with a thud and a small spray of sand. He looked around realizing that he had been delivered into this world in the same spot in which he had been taken. Gasping once, he spun on all fours and scanned the schoolyard for her.  
  
She wasn't there.  
  
"Buffy?" Air was catching in his throat, making it hard to breathe.  
  
Breathe? He didn't need air. Consciously, he constricted his lungs only to find himself gasping and choking in the sand. Spike fell back onto his hands, pulling sweet air into his throat, feeling his lungs inflate and deflate with a rush of air. "Bloody hell," he muttered, grabbing his aching chest, poking his fingers through the burn in his shirt. Something knocked steadily into his ribs, aching like an unused muscle after a good workout. He tapped his ribcage. It tapped back. Again. Harder then softer. *Tap* tap *Tap* tap.  
  
Spike muttered incoherently, the implications hitting him like an anvil.  
  
"Human?" he whispered under his breath.  
  
Buffy.  
  
Another anvil. "Buffy?" he called. "Buffy?" Silence. Tears began to  
  
stream down his face. Hot tears that burned against his skin. "I left  
  
you," he muttered, grabbing the metal base of the jungle gym. " I left you. I left you alone in that...Buffy?" Spike was becoming more agitated by the second. "Can't believe I listened to a bloody vision... Buffy?... trust, she said...Buffy?...my fault. My fault you're going to die. The baby. Oh, God....Buffy?" He was screaming now, raging, the metal of the playtoy bending like silly putty in his hand. "Buffy?" Spike's arms stretched toward the sky, his rage at himself, at her, at everything, consuming him. His face contorted and he lifted his hands to his stinging wet eyes.  
  
Ridges. Fangs.  
  
"What the...?" He was distracted for the briefest moment before his utter devastation cramped down on him like a vice. "Buffy?" The sound echoed off of the fences like the crack of a bat. He could taste the hot salt on his face. " I left you alone..."  
  
"Go home, Spike," That sweet vanilla voice in his head.  
  
"Home," he repeated as if under a thrall. "Home home home." His feet were moving. Pounding the sand, then grass, then pavement. His lungs straining, burning, his heart raging in his chest. It felt as if the starting gate had swung open and he was racing for the finish. Step after frantic step, breath after labored breath, heartbeat after pounding heartbeat. The world blurring past like the view from a speeding train.  
  
There was something else.  
  
There were shadows.  
  
To be contd... 


	15. Going Home

Title: Going Home (New Life- pt 15)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: What can I say? Buffy and Spike finally find each other again.  
  
Going Home  
  
The wind stopped. The spinning world was silent. Empty. Cold. A shiver shot down her back making her entire body convulse against the cold walls around her. Everything hurt. Her head, her arms, her hands, her legs, her belly was ripping apart. She shuddered again, cold sweat rushing down her neck, mixing with the blood, washing in crimson rivers down her spine.  
  
Buffy let her eyes flutter open. Blackness. Cold, black, emptiness.  
  
Nothing. The world, every world, was gone. She was too tired to cry.  
  
Instead, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. At least in her mind she had something left to hold on to.  
  
*****  
  
The run to the cemetery from the schoolyard seemed to last forever. Trees flew past along with cars, dogs, mailboxes. Breathing was inconvenient, as was the explosive rhythm in his chest. No time for this. Can play 'Wonders of Anatomy' when I find Buffy, he thought. Not now. Home.  
  
Spike almost fell, he turned so fast through the cemetery gates. Half of him was still expecting to see two headstones. One larger, one smaller. The stronger half kept running. Needing to get home. To wait for her there.  
  
The door. He could see it. Only a few more steps. His legs were burning, but he kept moving, his hands meeting with the thick wood of the door, barging through as she had so many times before. Sunlight flooded the room and he stopped dead.  
  
His crypt was exactly how he left it. The TV, the books, the fridge. There was no dust. No cobwebs. No new residents. She had been here. Regularly, from the looks of things. Her smell flooded him. Lavender and jasmine and honeysuckle whirling together, smacking into him. He had left her there alone. The realization was ripping his beating heart in two.  
  
"Buffy?" Spike called out, stepping further into the crypt. "Buffy? You here, Pet? Please answer me."  
  
Her smell was everywhere. Every inch of every wall. Every plank, every  
  
cushion, every rug. Spike began to walk along the edges of the room,  
  
feeling the cold stone trail beneath his fingertips. Nothing. He lit a  
  
candle he found by the door. It was half melted. Time to get a new one, he thought.  
  
"I love you, Spike.."  
  
He spun on one heel, staring around the room. Empty. The boiling tears  
  
came again. "I left you. I promised I'd never leave... Buffy?" he  
  
muttered hysterically, his hand unconsciously sliding along the stone as he walked. "Buffy?" He was at the ladder to the lower level, descending to their room. God, she's everywhere, he thought.  
  
Again the wall, trailing his hands. " I never knew how cold it was. Why didn't you tell me, Love?" Around the perimeter, every inch. Empty. Spike stared over at the bed, almost afraid to look, afraid to think he would never spend another night curled around her, exploring her, always finding something new. The blanket was rumpled and a pillow was hanging over the side. "She slept here," he whispered in amazement. "God, she stayed here." Slowly he sat on the edge, pulling the pillow to his chest, clinging, smelling her hair, her sweat, her tears, her essence. He couldn't have held back if he tried. "I'm so sorry, love. I'm sorry." Sobbing, hitching words.  
  
He tried to steel himself, to focus and plan, but all he could do was think of what he had done. Let go. Let go of her. Spike tried to breathe, closing his eyes, pulling air in, blowing it out, but nothing was easy.  
  
Nothing would ever be easy.  
  
Spike noticed a pad of paper by the bed. Wiping his eyes, he leaned to the bedside table and slid the tablet into his lap.  
  
I love you, Spike.  
  
Pages upon pages. Over and Over. Night after night.  
  
"No!" He tossed the pillow back to the bed, clutching the papers to his  
  
aching, pounding chest. "No, Buffy." He fell to his knees sobbing  
  
outright, his body shaking from its very core.  
  
A tiny noise, just a sigh, caught his ear. Spike stopped, his mouth  
  
snapping shut, tuning out everything but the faint mewling sound. It was a horrible, desperate, lonely moan. He stood, following the barely audible noise through the bedroom, out the back entrance and into the tunnels below. Suddenly, the noise choked to a stop.  
  
"Buffy?" He was trying to control his voice, which was wavering between  
  
terror and elation. "Love, where are you?" He heard a painful little groan and ran.  
  
She was curled within a niche in the rock, a tight little ball of flesh and blood and blonde hair. Spike ran to her, not quite believing that she was real. She was whimpering like a wounded child, hiding in a closet. "Oh God, Buffy," he whispered, skidding to his knees next to her, grabbing her shoulders. She moaned softly and he felt her shoulder loosely pop.  
  
Spontaneously, the tears began again, as he put an arm under her legs, the other under her back and lifted her limp body to his chest.  
  
"Buffy?" he whispered, showering her face with gentle kisses. "You with me, Pet?"  
  
Her eyes flickered, straining to open, never fully making it.  
  
"Spike?" The tiniest breath of a whisper. He smiled at her, his tears raining on her pale cheeks.  
  
"Yeah, it's me, Love," Spike answered, beginning back toward the crypt.  
  
"But you're gone."  
  
"No. I'm right here. I won't ever leave you again."  
  
Buffy said nothing for a long moment, just listening to his boots hit the stone floor, feeling his arms around her. Spike thought she had drifted back out. "I love you, Spike," she whispered.  
  
He paused, a breath catching in his throat. " I know, Pet. I love you  
  
too."  
  
*****  
  
Buffy awoke slowly, a brutal pain overtaking every inch of her body. She bit her lip, drawing blood, letting the pain wash over her like a wave. At least I know I'm alive, she thought. Spike was sitting by her legs with a bowl of water and a washcloth, gently cleaning the wounds on her legs and hands. Buffy flinched, the muscles in her calf contracting as he brushed over a particularly livid mark.  
  
"Oooowww," Buffy whimpered, pulling her leg away.  
  
"Be a big girl," Spike answered, smiling up at her, relieved that she was awake. She had been out a long time and he had debated taking her to hospital.  
  
"It *hurts*," she whined softly, but she could tell that her healing powers were back and she could feel all of the wounds closing.  
  
"How's the shoulder?" Spike slid up the bed next to her, stretching like a cat, lying on his side pressed against her. Buffy wriggled, testing it out.  
  
"Ouchy, but better."  
  
"Had to do a little bone popping there. Glad you were out for that." He was unconsciously brushing his hands over her soft cheek. She closed her eyes, drinking him in. "God, I missed touching you," he purred, his lips brushing against her face.  
  
Buffy's eyes flew open in shock. "You... you're warm!" she yelped, grabbing his hand and holding it between her own. He smiled down on her again as she slid her small fingers down to his wrist. "You have a heartbeat?!"  
  
"Seems our little trip had some side effects," Spike commented, pressing his lips against her cheek again.  
  
"Hu..human, Spike?" Buffy whispered, pushing him back so she could look at his eyes.  
  
"No, Love. Still fangy Vampire Spike. Just with a few modifications, it seems."  
  
Buffy reached her hand out, pressing it to his chest, closing her eyes,  
  
feeling the rhythm of his heart synch with hers. A grin played on her lips, which broke to a broad smile. " I like this," she whispered, pressing her ear to his chest. His arms wrapped around her shoulders lightly as she snuggled in. "Spike's a real boy now," she giggled.  
  
He chuckled despite himself. "I'm not sure if I should be honored or  
  
offended, Pet. Thought I was doing just fine by you before."  
  
Buffy's face slackened, but the grin was still barely there. "Please tell me that the whole Vampire stamina thing is still.. ya know.."  
  
Spike chuckled again. "Might have to learn to regulate the whole ticker so that I don't have an inadvertent heart attack from you, but I think you'll be more than happy with me when the time comes," he said, brushing his lips against hers. She melted into his arms again, pressing her head back into his chest.  
  
"Good," she whispered, her body going soft against him. He tightened his grip on her, holding her against him, listening to her breathing and her heart. She drifted back off, still with a devious grin on her face.  
  
****  
  
Buffy screamed, startling Spike from his half slumber. It was a horrifying, terrible, ear splitting howl as if someone had driven a stake through her heart. He bolted upright, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs from his sleeping mind.  
  
"Buffy?" he asked, his heart beating overtime now. "Nightmare, Love?"  
  
"Something's wrong!" she panted, her hands clutching white knuckled at the bed sheets. She screamed again, writhing against the agony.  
  
"What is it, Pet?" he said grabbing her hand. Her fingernails immediately sunk into his skin, drawing blood. "Arms, head, legs, help me here," he asked, taking inventory of all of her injured parts.  
  
"Got to get to Giles, Willow..." she breathed, her hand clenching his like a vice.  
  
"What? Why? Buffy, What's wrong?" She was sweating and white as a ghost. For a moment, he thought he might lose her again. The look on her face was sheer terror.  
  
"Baby," she whispered, promptly passing out against the pillows.  
  
"Bloody *hell*!"  
  
to be contd. 


	16. Goodbye Again

Title: Goodbye Again (New Life- pt 16)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: It's time. Buffy, however, has checked out of reality. Spike has to search for help and does not like where, or with whom, he finds it.  
  
Goodbye Again  
  
  
  
Spike stood next to his bed, running his hands nervously through his hair. Get her somewhere quickly. She must have said 'Giles and Willow' for a reason. Maybe her house. Car. Where's the sodding car. No clue. Even if I did, no idea where she left the keys. "Bugger," Spike muttered to himself, scooping her up and starting up the ladder. "Determined to give my new ticker a bloody run for its money on its first day."  
  
Buffy was quiet now, out cold, her head tucked against his chest. Spike  
  
decided that he could carry her there a lot faster than he'd find the car or get someone to come and retrieve them. Whatever he did, he needed to do it before she started howling again. Another sound like that was bound to terrify him right out of ever doing this to her again.  
  
Ever again? Spike wondered if his newfound...modifications... meant that this *wasn't* their only shot at parenthood. That they could end up with a house full of kids. The picture of a legion of little blonde  
  
three-year-olds with superhuman strength and questionable tempers passed  
  
through his scattered mind. The Armies of Darkness would tremble at that sight. Let's see how we do with this one.  
  
Buffy stirred in his arms, shifting uncomfortably and Spike stumbled to keep his balance and forward momentum. He picked up the pace, almost breaking into a jog, following the familiar off road path to Revello Drive. For a moment, he thought she might wake up, but she settled back into his arms, her head falling back against his chest. It never seemed this long a trek before. Then again, he'd never been carrying a very pregnant Buffy, a pumping heart, and an overly anxious mind with him in the past.  
  
Finally, Spike caught sight of the familiar house. He'd almost missed it. It looked different in daylight. He jogged across the street and down the walkway, hopping up her front steps until he reached the door. Hope I haven't been disinvited, he thought as he mustered his strength and kicked the door open with a crash.  
  
"Some help here," Spike called, walking into the entryway. Giles appeared from the dining room at the sound of the door. Xander and Dawn were in the living room playing a hearty game of Go Fish. Now they looked like fawns caught in high beams.  
  
"Spike?" Dawn squeaked, popping up from her chair.  
  
"Nibs," he answered nodding in her direction.  
  
"What's wrong?" Giles asked, standing straight across from Spike, sliding his hands under Buffy to help support her. The Watcher saw a million expressions melting together on Spike's face. Terror, concern, love, sadness, elation. It was dizzying to look at him.  
  
"Long story. Ends in howling. She said something was wrong. Giles and  
  
Willow. Came here," Spike panted. Giles removed one hand from under Buffy and held it to her neck, feeling for her pulse.  
  
"What's wrong with her?" Dawn asked, peering over Spike's arm.  
  
Giles looked Spike in the eyes. "Did she say anything else?"  
  
"The baby. Then she was out. Carried her here," Spike was close to tears again, but bit the inside of his lip and drove them back. No need to frighten the Niblet.  
  
"If *anything* happens to her," Xander hissed.  
  
"Harris," Spike snarled. He had neither the time nor the patience for the whelp right now.  
  
"Spike, let's get her upstairs," Giles said. Spike was bounding up the  
  
steps before Giles finished the thought. "Xander, stay with Dawn please."  
  
The Watcher was off after Spike before the whining could commence.  
  
"Willow?" Giles called as he reached the landing. "This way," he continued to Spike, gesturing towards Buffy's room.  
  
"You think Red's a good choice for this, mate?" Spike asked. Last time he had seen the girl, she was ripping out internal organs and sending him to hell, after all.  
  
"Only choice, I'm afraid," Giles responded. " I would not do this if we had another option." Willow appeared through the doorway to Buffy's room. She stopped dead, staring at Spike. Fear and torment swirled in her eyes. Spike had been ready to be overcome with anger at the sight of the witch, but instead he felt an incredible sadness. Pity.  
  
"Willow, it's time," Giles said. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Y..yes."  
  
"Spike, take Buffy into her room, please."  
  
Spike complied wordlessly, laying Buffy gently down on the bed. She moaned, grabbing his arm, but her eyes stayed shut tight. "It's OK, Love," he whispered, dropping to his knees beside the bed, holding her hand softly. "I'm here."  
  
Willow came into the bedroom carrying a box and setting it down at the foot of the bed. Giles stood in the doorway. "You ready, Tara?" Willow asked.  
  
Spike hadn't seen the good witch sitting in the corner. His mind flashed to the night in the cemetery when she came to him and gave him the warning. They had something in common now. They had both crossed over and came back at someone else's hand. "I'm ready," Tara whispered, standing up slowly.  
  
"Ready for? Shouldn't we take her to hospital?" Spike asked, turning to Giles, feeling steadily more uneasy by the moment.  
  
"Spike, I will explain everything but we need to go now," Giles answered.  
  
"Wait a bloody minute!" Spike stood up, spinning toward the Watcher.  
  
"Bugger off, mate! I'm not leaving her again. I told her I'd stay with  
  
her." Giles could see Spike's eyes start to swim and hear his voice start to crack.  
  
Tara began to walk toward the Vampire. "Spike?" she whispered, laying her hand gently on his forearm. A tear escaped from his eye as he turned to look at her. He brushed it off in frustration with the back of his hand. "Please let Giles explain. We *have* to do this, alright? You know I wouldn't do this if we had a choice." Willow's head dropped, realizing the implications of Tara's statement. "If we don't do it this way, she and the baby could die. I know that would kill you too, Spike. I know you love them. So please, trust me, OK?"  
  
"Die?" Spike asked, his beautiful eyes shimmering and watery. He turned back to Buffy, looking at her, touching her hand, feeling her soft skin.  
  
"We won't let that happen. But you have to behave. You have to trust me and go. I will come and get you when it's safe. Giles can explain  
  
everything."  
  
"I... I can't just leave her," Spike whispered, never taking his eyes off Buffy's face. He was brushing her hair from her cheeks.  
  
"Sometimes you have to let go for a while."  
  
The words stung his ears.  
  
"I *promised* her."  
  
"I know," Tara answered, resting her hand on his shoulder.  
  
"She'll be afraid when she wakes up."  
  
"We'll be here. We'll tell her you're nearby."  
  
"Don't let her die," Spike pleaded, finally breaking down. "Please." He leaned down and kissed Buffy's lips softly. She tasted like vanilla and tears.  
  
"I won't. *We* won't. But you have to go," Tara whispered, putting her arm around Spike and pulling him slowly away from the bed. Giles stepped up behind them and gingerly took the Vampire's arm and pulled him slowly into the hallway.  
  
The last thing Spike saw was Tara's face disappearing behind the door, and the sound of a 'click'.  
  
To be contd. 


	17. Sunsets

Title: Sunsets (New Life- pt 17)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Buffy is in for a long labor. Spike and Giles have a conversation about the past and the future.  
  
Sunsets  
  
Spike stood staring at the wrong side of Buffy's bedroom door. This  
  
shouldn't be happening, he thought. Just got her back and already leaving her in a situation that he didn't trust. Buffy didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve her. Or so he thought. Yet another door between us, Pet.  
  
Giles put his hand on Spike's shoulder. "This could be a long while. Why don't we go downstairs and talk. Nothing we can do here."  
  
Spike spun, facing the Watcher and pushing him hard against the wall. "Tell me again why I'm not with her? Why Red is in there with her magic mojo? Why am I standing in the bloody hallway, mate? That's my child and my....Buffy," he sputtered, not really knowing in what terms he should refer to her or their relationship.  
  
"I understand you're upset..."  
  
"Upset?" Spike snapped, pushing Giles up the wall a bit. "Upset doesn't *begin* to cover this, mate. I want answers. What was Glenda talking about? Dying? Tell me *now*!" He was fighting back the demon with every ounce of the energy he had left.  
  
"They're saving her, Spike, and they're the only ones who can. I doubt  
  
seriously that this little ruckus in the hallway is helping them concentrate on the task at hand, either, " Giles said in an amazingly calm tone, considering he was dangling from the business end of Spike's grip. Spike released the Watcher, allowing him to slide back to the floor. "Now, if you'd come downstairs, you and I can have a talk. If you still feel the need to pummel me into oblivion, I will then oblige."  
  
Spike felt a tinge of guilt. "Look, Giles, I apologize. It's just... I  
  
love her. You have no concept of what she's been through..." His voice  
  
trailed off. Even Spike did not know what had happened to her after he  
  
jumped.  
  
"I'm quite sure you're right. It appears that you may have been through  
  
quite a bit yourself," he responded, beginning to relax. "But, like it or not, this is the way it *must* be." Giles started toward the stairs. "You and I should talk. Coming?"  
  
Spike sighed, taking a long look at the bedroom door. He turned and  
  
followed Giles down the stairs.  
  
*****  
  
The room was silent. Buffy was lying quietly on the bed. Every so often, she would cry out in her sleep and writhe along the comforter, but she wouldn't come back. Tara had thought this might happen. She thought that Buffy might hide inside of herself to stop the fear. Stop the pain. Right now, it was a good thing. The silence made it easier for Willow to begin the spell and connect with the Goddess.  
  
Willow sat on the bed with Buffy's head in her lap, her hands on Buffy's  
  
shoulders. The witch had closed her eyes and Tara could see the silvery  
  
threads of power weaving around her. A chill ran through Tara, but she  
  
forced it back. This had to be done.  
  
Willow was chanting softly in a language older than time and the silvery  
  
threads became more solid. Sparkling stars danced along them like Christmas lights on tinsel wire. The power grew and spread until a circle was formed around the three women. A circle that could not be broken until the child was born and the payment made. Tara hoped that Willow could hold out that long. She closed her eyes and waited.  
  
*****  
  
Spike had escaped to the porch while Giles spoke to Xander, asking him to please take Dawn somewhere, just for an hour or two. It was best that he and Spike spoke alone. Xander was reluctant at first, so many startled questions and defensive answers dancing in his head, but he complied, ushering Dawn out the door on some unseen yet glorious mission.  
  
Giles found the Vampire standing on the back porch, a plume of smoke rushing from between his lips. He closed the door, walking out to the steps next to Spike. The sun was setting over the treetops in a dazzling display of red and orange and pink and yellow.  
  
"Haven't seen one of those in a while," Spike said, gesturing at the sun  
  
with his lit cigarette.  
  
"No," Giles answered. " I don't suppose you have." Giles had noticed the Vampire's sunlit entrance earlier, but there had been more pressing matters to attend to.  
  
"Don't know quite what happened, mate," Spike said, sitting down on the  
  
steps. Giles tugged his pants and sat down next to him. "All I can think of is that the resident hell god of that dimension.."  
  
"Luke?"  
  
"Wanker. He got a little off his mind and shot me with some sort of  
  
current. It went straight into my chest. Hurt like hell."  
  
"What other.. changes.. have you noticed?"  
  
"Breathing for one," Spike coughed, tossing his cigarette to the ground and grinding it with his boot heel. "And this incessant little chatter in my chest," His hand unconsciously traveled to his heart, as if in the midst of a pledge.  
  
"But you're not human either," Giles stated. Spike looked at him curiously. " Showed me a little fang upstairs," the Watcher mused, pulling off his glasses and rubbing them on his shirttail.  
  
"Sorry bout that," Spike commented, staring back at the darkening  
  
skies.  
  
"Quite understandable."  
  
"So, Watcher, what am I?" Spike asked, looking at Giles. It was a sincere enough question, and Spike had no idea whom else to ask.  
  
"I'm not sure," Giles answered simply, " but it seems that you've been  
  
expected for quite some time."  
  
A confused look crossed Spike's face. "I've had enough of riddles."  
  
"Willow stumbled across a file of Ms. Calendar's," Giles began, " A file  
  
called Pax"  
  
"Peace," Spike muttered, a vision of the vanilla scented moonstone girl  
  
flitting across his mind.  
  
"Right," Giles commented, "The language was one I'd never seen before, but Jenny had started to translate. I sent the rest to the Council..."  
  
"Great. Sure the wankers are all abuzz to help old Spike."  
  
"Well, they'll be interested in this." Giles interrupted.  
  
Another curious look from the Vampire. "Well?"  
  
"It seems that Jenny had thought that it had something to do with Angel.  
  
The whole 'Vampire with a soul' connection...."  
  
"Bloody poofter seems to be a magnet for the ancient prophetic types."  
  
"But she translated the word 'soul' incorrectly. Willow spotted the  
  
mistake. The true translation is 'heart'."  
  
Spike thought for a moment. "And you now think this is about me?"  
  
"It seems to fit. Even before your little journey to hell, Spike, it was your heart that ruled you for better or worse. Don't you agree?"  
  
"Don't be so quick to propel me into some Chosen One."  
  
Giles smiled slyly. "I think you managed to do that yourself."  
  
Spike chuckled. "Why, Rupert, was that your attempt at off-colour humour?"  
  
"I am still male, despite all of the estrogen in this house." Giles  
  
commented, blushing a deep red.  
  
"Bloody right there. Enough to turn the biggest bad into a weeping nancy boy."  
  
"I've noticed," Giles remarked.  
  
Spike smirked. Guess I deserved that, he thought. "So, what does this  
  
prophesy say?"  
  
"Well, we don't really know yet. All we have is something about a 'Vampire with a heart' and bringing forth peace. Bridging the gap between the worlds, uniting man and beast..."  
  
"The end of wars..." Spike continued. "Heard this one, mate."  
  
"You know something?" Giles asked curiously.  
  
"The Peacemaker. Ancient, quite dodgy, prophesy. But you got it all wrong. Not me."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"The Peacemaker's a girl. Ran into her in hell."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Trust me on this, Watcher."  
  
"But she has something to do with you?"  
  
"In the sense that she helped me while I was there, I suppose. That and she mentioned something about Buffy and I protecting her. Since I've shuffled back onto this mortal coil, haven't seen hide nor hair of her."  
  
"I'll let the Council know."  
  
"Sure they'll be bloody elated." Spike lit another cigarette. "So, are you going to tell me what's going on upstairs?" He took a long drag and coughed a bit as he exhaled. Damned lungs.  
  
Giles explained the entire story to Spike, starting with Willow's unnerving discovery in the Tarangi texts, through all of the research on how to counteract the predicted outcome. Spike was silent, listening to the Watcher, but inside, a storm was raging. Thoughts of losing her again were like a tornado in his mind. Fast and furious and wiping out any semblance of rational thought he had left.  
  
Finally, Giles got to why Spike was sitting out on the porch in the twilight rather than letting Buffy pummel him while she screamed in pain. He explained the spell and the magnitude of connecting with Gaea, and that Willow was the only one among them that was capable of grounding so much power. Not to mention, for the protection spell to work, only women must be present. Spike could not say he was happy with the scenario at hand, but understood much better when he realized the seriousness of Buffy's present situation.  
  
"So," Spike said, leaning back against the step. "Give it to me straight. What are our chances here? I mean, I honestly don't think I can go through it again. She dies, you might as well start sharpening your stake..."  
  
Giles held his chin in his hand pensively. "Well, as much as the idea of staking you may have excited me in the past, I doubt that that is best for any of us," he responded. "Although Willow has done some terrible things, she is a powerful witch with quite a bit of motivation to try and make things right for Buffy and for you. She feels that she owes you both something. Which, of course, she does. So, I think the chances of her bringing Buffy through this are very good." Spike knew that the Watcher was candy coating the words, but he clung to them all the same.  
  
"And the child?"  
  
"Buffy won't let any child of hers die." Giles answered smiling.  
  
Spike smiled back at him. "No. Don't suppose she would."  
  
They were both silent, staring at the dusky twilight skies. The world was hazed in purplish blue now, and the mother moon was crawling into the sky.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You know that I don't trust you, right? You know that I never approved of your relationship with Buffy."  
  
"I know."  
  
"But she does love you. She was devastated when you... left. So, I'm  
  
willing to try and work with you for her sake."  
  
Spike looked at him. "Work with me?"  
  
"You think that either of us could handle two of them alone?"  
  
To be contd. 


	18. Family

Title: Family (New Life- pt 18)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Spike makes a big decision. Will you figure out what it is? Buffy comes to and realizes just what is going on.  
  
  
  
Family  
  
Spike stood, stretching his legs. A sense of urgency overcame him. There was something left undone. He wasn't sure if it was something Buffy would ever appreciate, but he needed to do it all the same. Not because he *had* to, rather because it is what *he* wanted.  
  
"You said you think it could be a while before I could see her?" Spike  
  
asked, turning back toward Giles and stepping onto terra firma.  
  
Giles looked at his watch as if it had some sort of baby birthing egg timer attachment. "It could be any time, I suppose. But in reality, I would imagine we have hours, if not a day."  
  
"A day?" Spike asked, aggravated. "What's the hold up? Been baking it for nine months now."  
  
"Well, these things take time," Giles answered, still sitting on the step. He found himself amused and a bit endeared by Spike's impatience.  
  
"I have something I need to do," Spike began, his hands in his duster's  
  
pockets. "Shouldn't take me more than an hour. I don't really want to  
  
leave, but..."  
  
"She will be fine," Giles said. "Probably do you some good to collect  
  
yourself anyway." Spike still looked nervous. "Go. If anything happens, I will make sure to let them know you will be back in a hurry. I seriously doubt there will be any change in an hour."  
  
"Right then," Spike responded. "Tell the Niblet that I haven't gone far. Should have talked to her more when I came in but.."  
  
"Spike, if you're going to go, off with you. We'll be here when you  
  
return."  
  
"Right." Spike turned on a heel and took off at a jog around the house.  
  
*****  
  
A throaty scream roared around the bedroom and Buffy's eyes popped open, her shoulders lifting off the sheets, every muscle in her body contracting all at once. Tara winced at the sound. Willow was too deep in her trance to notice.  
  
The look on Buffy's face was sheer terror. Pain ripped through her as if she had been stabbed in the stomach. Willow was chanting softly, still holding on to Buffy's tensed shoulders. Tara rubbed Buffy's calf softly, trying to calm her. The screaming stopped.  
  
"Tara?" Buffy moaned. "What's happening? Where am I? What's going on? Is everything OK?" In her mind, she had been lying in Spike's bed, tangled around him, feeling his lips on her face. The reality of the situation hit her like a wave crashing down. She was confused, scared, in agonizing pain. None of this made sense.  
  
"Everything is fine, Buffy," Tara answered quietly, still rubbing her calf.  
  
"I feel like... I have never felt pain like this before," Buffy screamed  
  
again as pain shook her, tearing her insides out.  
  
"You've never had a baby before, Buffy."  
  
"Right," Buffy said, suddenly waking into the here and now. The pain was slowly subsiding. This is ridiculous, she thought. I have been beaten, bitten, in hell, even dead, and *nothing* has ever felt this..."Owwwwwww!" Buffy whined as the pain finally tailed off. "How much more of this?"  
  
"Well," Tara began. "I'm no doctor and I really know little about babies. My aunt was a midwife though. I was there for a lot of babies being born. I delivered puppies once..."  
  
"That's a relief," Buffy said in the snarkiest tone that her exhausted mouth could muster. "Isn't there some way to tell?"  
  
"The screaming is getting closer together. That's a good sign. Well, it is a really bad thing that it hurts so much. It does hurt?"  
  
"Uh, *yeah*," Buffy remarked, flopping back onto Willow's lap. "Hi, Will."  
  
"She's in a trance," Tara said.  
  
"Oh," Buffy responded. "Where's Spike? I..." It suddenly hit her. Maybe hell had all been a dream. Maybe she was here and he was still.. gone... and she was about to become the world's first supernatural single mom. "He... he did come back, didn't he? I wasn't dreaming that was I?"  
  
Tara smiled. "He's downstairs Buffy. He wanted to stay with you, but the protection spell requires that only women be in the circle. So, he couldn't stay. I had to drag him out of here."  
  
A small smile played on Buffy's lips. "I wish he could be here."  
  
"So does he," Tara answered.  
  
*****  
  
The crypt was dark. Spike lit the candle by the door, then grabbed another from next to the television, lighting it and carrying it with him. He made his way down the ladder and into the lower level. This thought had ran over and over in his head since things had changed with Buffy, but he didn't know how she would take it, and then he was sort of indisposed in hell. Now was as good a time as any.  
  
He walked over to the bookcase in the back corner of his bedroom and pushed it aside. In a niche in the wall was a small wooden box. Spike sat on the stone floor, pulling the box into his lap and setting the candle on the floor in front of him.  
  
It was so old. It even smelled old. Dust covered the wood. He blew on the top of the box, then flipped the lid, revealing the velvet fabric lining. Inside was all that was left of his life as William. A small notebook, some cufflinks, his father's watch and some of his mother's jewelry, which he had gone back for when he heard of her death. He reached for a small blue bag and shook the contents into his palm. It was beautiful still. He had remembered looking at it when he was a child. The way it changed colour when she moved, and the way it caught the light from every angle. Thinking about his mum was always hard, but wonderful. She was his first love.  
  
Spike let his hand close on the small piece of his past. He remembered her being so beautiful. What angels must look like, he thought. She was thin and blonde and not very tall, but her spirit always filled a room. Whenever his parents had company, all eyes and ears were always on her. Her laughter filled the house. Many a night, he and Camille would lie on the floor of the upstairs balcony, a silent sibling tradition, and peer through the railings into the sitting room below, just to see what grown ups did. To hear what they talked about. Every time, mum would catch them and chase them back to their beds and kiss them goodnight. On the nights that she wasn't entertaining, she would read them poetry. Spike smiled, supposing he should have been cross with her for hooking him on the stuff at such a tender age, but back then, he had thought her sweet voice was magic.  
  
Then daddy disappeared and everything changed. We were teenagers then, he thought, Camille being two years his junior. Mum and dad had always been so in love. Always kissing, touching, happy. Even their disagreements had been tender and passionate. He had learned about love from watching his dad bring her flowers and tell her every day that he loved her, and from watching his mom tend to them all with grace, even at their worst. When dad stayed late in town, no one ever thought anything of it. His business affairs were always second in his heart to his family, but they were crucial to their place in the world. William had understood that. But the night he didn't come home, he never came home... Camille had waited by the door all night to pounce on him and shower him with kisses as she had done every night since she could walk.  
  
Mum had died that night. No, it was longer than that. It took weeks,  
  
months, for her to die. Her spirit eventually faded and all that was left was the frail body she wore. She still kissed them goodnight. She still tended them while they were ill. But they were hollow gestures. Her heart had left with father.  
  
William had tried to be the man of the house. Gone to university, but  
  
worked all night in thankless job after thankless job to keep his mum and little sis in finery and food. It wasn't enough. Mum needed things young William didn't have to offer. And Camille. Camille just buried herself in thought and hid.  
  
He had even tried to maintain their place in society, going to all of the social functions a young man of his stature should be attending. William never had the knack for witty banter or the aura that lit a room like either of his parents. Instead of furthering his parents' good name, the Windsors were now a laughing stock. All because he thought his heart and his words were enough to win them over. Wasn't enough for them. Hadn't been enough to save his family.  
  
Spike opened his eyes, staring down and seeing his mother's smile in the  
  
little piece of the shiny part of his life. When all was beauty and grace and he was part of a family.  
  
Family.  
  
Guess I get to give this another go, he thought, smiling and shoving his  
  
clenched hand into his pocket.  
  
But I won't leave.  
  
*****  
  
"Giles?" Xander hollered, coming through the front door. "Brought some  
  
food and picked up this stray teenager I found at the mini mart."  
  
Dawn slapped Xander and took a long draw from her milkshake. Giles appeared from the kitchen with a steaming cuppa. "Where's Spike? Can't wait to talk to him. Was I dreaming or did he come in while it was still light out?" Dawn gushed.  
  
"He had an errand," Giles replied, moving into the living room and settling into the overstuffed chair. "And no, Dawn, you weren't dreaming."  
  
"So, he's human?" Dawn asked, sitting down on the couch. Xander had  
  
already settled in and was unbagging fast food from a greasy paper bag.  
  
"Not quite, but I think this is a conversation better had with Spike."  
  
Xander took a huge bite from a hamburger. "Nice of him to jet while Buffy's giving birth to his child. Real manly thing to do." His mouth was full and he wiped the corners with the back of his hand.  
  
Giles took a deep breath and sighed. Part of him did not want to say the words, but he had made his peace with Spike. It was time that Xander learned that compromise was a part of life. "Xander," Giles began, sipping his tea, " I know you love Buffy in your own way, but it's time that you realized that she does indeed love Spike, odd as that may seem to any of us. She wants him here. She needs him.."  
  
"Then why *isn't* he here?"  
  
"Because I encouraged him to go."  
  
"Good," Xander said victoriously, taking another bite of his sandwich.  
  
"No," Giles corrected. "Spike is insanely worried about her, not to mention unnerved by what has happened to him. I thought he needed to regroup in order to be any good to Buffy. When he returns, which I suspect will be momentarily, I suggest you gather your dignity and your manners and at least be civil lest you find yourself out of Buffy's life. Were you to force her to choose between your friendship and her relationship with Spike, I doubt you would like the outcome."  
  
Xander felt as if he had been kicked in the gut. He knew Giles was right, but he never really wanted to hear it. Spike? Why Spike? What did Spike have that he didn't? Fangs and ridges? Certainly not a soul. Bloodlust? Why Spike?  
  
"If you give him a chance, you might like him at least a little," Dawn said timidly.  
  
"I don't need... I don't want to hear this," Xander huffed, dropping the  
  
remainder of his supper on the coffee table and grabbing his keys. He  
  
strode at the door as if escape were his only hope for sanity.  
  
"Where are you..." Dawn stuttered.  
  
"Harris?" Spike said, walking in through the door just as Xander reached the knob. Xander looked hard at the Vampire. Really looked at his face and saw it. Saw a person. That just made it worse.  
  
He brushed by Spike angrily and ran out the door.  
  
To be contd.... 


	19. Night and Day

Title: Night and Day (New Life- pt 19)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: The moment comes closer. Spike and Dawn finally have a chance to talk.  
  
Night and Day  
  
"What did I do this time? Spike asked, closing the door behind him.  
  
"Xander just needs some time to adjust, that's all," Giles responded,  
  
sipping at his tea. Dawn was sitting on the couch, staring quietly at  
  
Spike. She didn't want to force herself on him, but she was desperate for him to acknowledge her.  
  
"I was thinking on the way back here...don't babies need things?" Spike  
  
asked, looking quite dumfounded by the sudden reality of his life. " I mean like cribs and bottles and diapers and.... baby things?"  
  
"Well, in anticipation of Buffy's return, we took care of all of that,"  
  
Giles answered.  
  
"We even made her a room," Dawn whispered. Spike looked at her, suddenly remembering how much he missed the Niblet. "Want me to show you?"  
  
"Yeah," Spike said, holding out his hand. Dawn grabbed on, noticing  
  
immediately how warm he was. She looked at his eyes, her own wide with  
  
surprise. "Guess I got some 'splaining to do anyway."  
  
Dawn just nodded, holding tightly to his hand, and lead him back upstairs.  
  
  
  
*****  
  
Buffy was still awake, alternating between chatting with Tara and screaming bloody murder, but at the moment she was quiet. A thin sheen of sweat covered her body and Tara could tell that she was already completely exhausted. Her eyes were dark hollows and her face was lined with worry and fatigue. It would be easier for her if Spike was here, Tara thought. She would at least be distracted.  
  
"You alright, Buffy?" Tara asked, holding her hand. Buffy squeezed it  
  
softly.  
  
"I'm tired," Buffy answered. "It hurts."  
  
"Is there anything I can do?"  
  
"No," Buffy answered, staring at the lights around her. "Pretty lights."  
  
"Part of the spell," Tara answered, smiling serenely.  
  
"Do you think I'm going to die?" Buffy asked, as the pain started again. This time she didn't scream. She was too tired to scream anymore and the pain was getting worse and more frequent. She closed her eyes and held Tara's hand tightly.  
  
"No, Buffy," Tara whispered, brushing her hair from her face. "No more  
  
dying".  
  
*****  
  
Dawn flicked on the light in what used to be her room. Her bed was still there, but so were all of the accoutrements of a baby room. Crib, cradle, changing table, toys. All sorts of things Spike knew nothing about. What he did notice, however, were the walls. Two were painted midnight blue, with stars and the moon. The other two were pale sky blue, with a sun and huge puffy white clouds.  
  
"Tara and I painted it," Dawn said. "Night and Day. Light and Dark. Just reminded me of you and Buffy." she said.  
  
"You're idea, Nibs?" Spike asked. Dawn sat down on the floor in the middle of the room. He came in and sat across from her.  
  
"Yeah," Dawn answered. " I kinda like art. Only thing I'm any good at.  
  
Guess the whole light and dark thing doesn't work anymore now that you..."  
  
"No, it's perfect," Spike said, letting his hand drop onto her knee softly. She smiled.  
  
"See, where the two meet it's a little bit of both. Kind of like you really are. Both of you."  
  
"Is *that* what you think?" Spike said. "Thought I was all *evil* and  
  
*dark* and Grrr and Buffy was all *goodness* and *light*. "  
  
Dawn giggled. Somewhere, she still had a little crush on him. "Yeah,  
  
right," she answered. "You're real evil now. And Buffy... you've seen her in the mornings. No goodness there." Spike chuckled. "Do you really like it?"  
  
"I *love* it, " he assured the girl. Dawn was silent a long moment.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"Yeah, Nib."  
  
"What happened to you?"  
  
Spike thought for once before answering. "I think I will let Buffy tell you about ... where we were."  
  
"I can wait for that," Dawn complained. "But what ... I mean..."  
  
"Oh," Spike answered. He took the girl's hand in his, and pulled it up to his chest, pressing it against his heart. He watched her eyes as she felt his heart beating. They were wide and as curious as a little child.  
  
"Are you human now?" Dawn asked. "Like me?"  
  
"Not quite. Still have the whole fangy face thing. But I have this silly heartbeat and I breathe. And I can go out for a stroll at noon now without being reduced to ashtray contents, or so it seems."  
  
"What does it mean?" Dawn said. Spike hadn't really thought beyond the  
  
basics discoveries.  
  
"Not sure yet, Niblet. Guess we'll figure it out as we go."  
  
"You going to stay with us?" Dawn asked, her hand still on his warm chest.  
  
"If that is what Buffy wants. And, of course, if you don't mind."  
  
Dawn giggled. " I guess I'll deal with it if I *have* too," She said  
  
sarcastically. He pushed her playfully.  
  
"Like the room?" a voice said from the doorway.  
  
Spike stood. Xander walked from the darkened hallway into the bright lights of the room. Anya stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.  
  
"Girls worked hard on it," Xander continued, scanning the wall.  
  
"Yeah," Spike said, sliding his hands into his jeans pockets and rocking  
  
back on his heels. "They did a wonderful job."  
  
"Xander made the crib, And the cradle," Anya said, standing on her toes so she could see Spike over Xander's shoulder. Spike looked shocked for a moment. He turned and walked over to the furniture. It was beautifully made, with little moons and suns carved into the edges, the wood stained a deep cherry colour. The boy had a real knack for this.  
  
"You *made* this?" Spike asked, turning back toward Xander.  
  
Xander shuffled his feet and looked to the floor. "Yeah. For Buffy."  
  
Spike thought a moment. In a way, he felt sorry for the whelp. He had been there himself. Still felt like he was there sometimes. Carrying a torch for the one woman who would never love you back. "Thank you," Spike said.  
  
Xander just nodded, staring at the Vampire with a mixture of hatred and a tenuous understanding.  
  
A brutal, earth-shattering scream broke the silence.  
  
  
  
Spike was out the door and around the corner to Buffy's room with lightning quickness, the rest of them at his heels. "Buffy? Buffy? She alright in there?" Spike called into the bedroom, pounding on the door with his fist, a mixture of concern and annoyance in his voice.  
  
His question was answered with a primal scream from Buffy. The sound of her pain was making him lose his mind. "That's it, I'm coming in," he said reaching for the knob. Xander grabbed his hand and Dawn latched onto his arm to stop him.  
  
"Spike, no," Xander said, trying to be calm. The sound was scaring the  
  
daylights out of him as well.  
  
"And why not? I need to do *something*."  
  
" I think you have done quite enough already," Xander retorted, losing his newfound understanding for just a moment. This was not going to be easy. Somewhere he would always be jealous that this was real. Now it was Spike and Buffy that were connected always. Not him. Spike.  
  
"And tell me again why in bloody hell I should listen to you?" Spike  
  
hissed, forgetting his pity, almost changing to game face. The noise was driving them both insane. Spike would do anything to get in there.  
  
Anything to help her.  
  
Buffy began screaming again. Spike could hear Willow chanting louder,  
  
faster. He could not bear this. His hand began to turn the knob.  
  
A tug on his sleeve brought him back. He turned to look at Dawn's worn and frightened little face. "You know Willow said that she has to protect her. That this ... baby...shouldn't... be ... at all. And to bring her into the world might kill Buffy. Willow said she can make it so both of them live, but we cannot break the circle. If we do, one of them, or both, die."  
  
Spike softened, leaning back against the door. Hearing Buffy screaming,  
  
Willow chanting, Tara cooing softly. He wanted to be with her. This was going to drive him mad.  
  
Giles appeared at the top of the steps. "It sounds like we are getting  
  
close. I'm going to go ahead and call the nurse."  
  
  
  
"Your friend?" Anya asked.  
  
"Yes," Giles answered. "She won't ask too many questions. But we need  
  
someone here to give Buffy and the child a good looking over. Spike nodded at the Watcher. Thank God, *someone* thought ahead. There was terror in the Vampire's eyes now. This was all too real and all to frightening. All he wanted was to have her back and to know that she and their child were safe.  
  
Dawn brought him back again. "Why don't you take me downstairs and help  
  
me... rustle up some food," Dawn said, tears in her eyes. Her sister's  
  
screaming was killing her too. Spike knew Dawn wasn't hungry, but also knew one more minute of hearing Buffy in so much pain and not being able to help her might do them both in.  
  
"Right then, Nib," Spike said, taking her hand. "Off we go."  
  
*****  
  
Spike sat down on the couch, Dawn sliding in next to him. "I'm really not hungry," she whispered, her tired eyes all dewy with tears.  
  
"I know, little one," Spike answered, wrapping his arm around her. She laid her head on his chest. He stroked her long, dark hair. So different from her sis, but so alike sometimes, he thought.  
  
"I just couldn't... I can't..." Dawn choked on her words.  
  
"It'll be fine, Niblet. Right as rain," Problem was, he hadn't quite  
  
convinced himself.  
  
"She's going to die, isn't she?"  
  
"Now, do you honestly think I would let that happen?" Spike replied,  
  
attempting to be comforting. Dawn looked up at him doubtfully. "Again?" he corrected.  
  
Anya came down the stairs, Giles a few steps behind. "What are all these sad faces about?" Anya chirped. "I thought this was a happy time. Babies are good."  
  
Dawn looked at her strangely. "But Willow said that Buffy might..."  
  
"Nah," Anya continued, waiving her hand in the air. "This is Buffy. She's the Slayer. She'll be fine. Isn't this what all of the saving the world stuff is about anyway? Make it safe for kittens and puppies and little children?"  
  
"She does have a point," Giles contributed, settling into his usual seat. Anya plopped on the arm of the couch, closest to Dawn. "We should be quite excited. Shortly, the world will be that much better a place."  
  
"But, what if..." Dawn began, huddling closer to Spike. "She's all I  
  
have.." Spike looked down at the girl for a second. "Ok. And Spike. But she's my *sister*."  
  
"What if? What if the world ends tomorrow? What if a flesh-eating demon sneaks into your room at night? What if.." Anya babbled.  
  
"Anya?" Giles interrupted, noticing the frightened expression on Dawn's  
  
face.  
  
"The point *is*," Anya continued, "You're about to become an aunt and  
  
Buffy's going to be somebody's mom and Spike is going to be a father. I  
  
think that adds up to points in the good column."  
  
Spike knew he liked the former vengeance demon for a reason. When it  
  
counted, she could be more human that the rest of them. "Think you're  
  
right," Spike said, brushing Dawn's hair back over her shoulder. "Things'll be fine, Niblet. Promise. Before you know it, your be changing nappies with the best of 'em."  
  
"What's a nappy?"  
  
A rapid knock at the door started just before the most brutal, ear- splitting scream pierced the air. It has begun.  
  
To be contd. 


	20. Delivery

Title: Delivery (New Life- pt 20)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: It's the big moment. But do things ever come off without a hitch?  
  
Delivery  
  
Buffy clutched the bed sheets with white knuckles, screaming. The pain was almost constant now, tearing at her, consuming her. She wanted him there. She was afraid. But Willow had said it would put them all in danger. The magic was dancing around them. A silvery white circle of little sparkly lights frolicking around the bed. Supposed to keep them safe. Tara was speaking quietly to Buffy, but Buffy could hardly hear her over the pain.  
  
Suddenly, Buffy felt it all starting. Her eyes widened in fear and she lost her tenuous grip on coherent thought. "Where's Spike?" she panted to Tara. "Tara, help me!" She was crying now. Sobbing. "Where's Spike? Shouldn't he be here? Tara, something's happening. Something's wrong." She felt as if a huge wave crashed over her, crushing her, and she felt the baby moving.  
  
"I know, Buffy," Tara cooed, trying not to alarm her. Trying not to betray her own feelings and admit that her own heart was racing and terrible little alarms chimed in her skull. She thought she could see the baby now. Willow chanted loudly, still lost in her protection spell. Tara thought fast, shaking off her own fear. "This baby, Buffy, this baby is a miracle. This...Buffy, we have to protect her. We don't know. No one has ever delivered a child like this. We have no idea what will happen." Just keep talking, Tara thought. Keep focused. "We are just trying to protect...."  
  
Tara's words were interrupted by an ear splitting howl and Buffy's entire body shuddering and sliding towards her.  
  
*****  
  
"This way," Giles said, opening the door and ushering the nurse inside. She was older, Earthy. Very calm. Nothing at all like Spike was feeling after hearing that last sound. He was on his feet, hopping over the coffee table. "Spike, stay with Dawn. There's nothing we can do yet." Giles commanded, stopping Spike at the foot of the stairs.  
  
"No, bloody...No," Spike argued, starting to push past Giles.  
  
"Spike, *please*," Dawn cried, sobbing, wrapped in a little ball on the  
  
couch.  
  
"You'll go mad sitting outside the door, Spike. Stay here where you can at least be useful," Giles reprimanded, beginning up the stairs with the nurse in tow.  
  
Must have a congenital weakness for Summers women, Spike thought, plopping back down on the couch next to the shaking teen. "Come on then, Nibs, we'll be useless and panicked together." Dawn crawled into the crook of his arm, sobbing into his shirt.  
  
"Think I'll go make some tea," Anya said, clapping her hands and prancing off toward the kitchen.  
  
*****  
  
Giles delivered the nurse to the door, then backed well away. Just as her hand touched the knob, an awful howl pierced the air. Giles dropped down the wall, sliding to the floor. He noticed Xander crouched much the same way in the doorway to the baby's room. The noise made everything stop. Breathing. Heartbeats. Time. The world was standing still.  
  
"Buffy?" Giles heard heavy footsteps downstairs and Spike's panicked voice calling, coming closer.  
  
"Spike, *stay* there!" Giles demanded. There is no way I can handle this, Giles thought. Can't bear to loose Buffy. Can't handle Spike if he lost her. Whatever Spike would do, kill or cry, might not differ with him much.  
  
*****  
  
"Oh God, Buffy," Tara gasped. "Buffy, stay with me. Buffy...." Tara's  
  
heart was jumping out of her chest. Buffy's eyes were fluttering, rolling back, her screaming replaced by rasping breaths. Wasn't Giles supposed to get help?  
  
Tara heard the knob turn. It felt like that one, simple, circular motion, took a lifetime to complete. Buffy was gasping and clawing the bed, tears streaming down her now silent cheeks. Open the damn door and help us, Tara thought.  
  
Finally, the door creaked open and quickly shut again. Tara was scooted out of the way, crawling up by Buffy's side, the nurse now at the foot of the bed.  
  
None of them remembered much from there. Buffy whimpered then roared and her body contorted, every muscle firing at once and she fell silent against Willow's legs. Willow went silent and collapsed behind Buffy, her head knocking against the headboard. Tara's head spun in confusion, and she felt as if she had gone deaf and mute. The lights were gone. Only the lamp on the table glowed. It was a deep, warm yellow.  
  
"Help me," the nurse whispered quietly to Tara, reaching out and touching Tara's hand. Tara looked at her startled and saw her holding a little bundled cloth.  
  
"What do I do?"  
  
"Can you take a pulse?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Take her's," the nurse said, gesturing at Buffy all the while fussing with the bundle in her arms. Sweeping the child's mouth. Wiping her face. Tara's fingers dropped to Buffy's neck. She didn't want to do it. She didn't want to know. It was easier to think she was asleep. "What do you feel?"  
  
Tara was relieved to find a strong and steady rhythm. "It..it's there, " Tara stuttered. She felt her own neck. "Slower than mine, but not very slow."  
  
A tiny noise came from the nurse's arms. Then a slightly louder one. The nurse smiled down at the baby. "The baby is beautiful," she said. "Pink. Ten fingers, ten toes..."  
  
Tara began to ask about fangs and thought better of it.  
  
"Stay with her," the nurse said in the same quiet, soothing voice. "Let me clean up the baby and then we'll take care of Buffy." She disappeared out of Tara's line of sight. Actually, could have been right in front of her. Tara seemed to have very limited senses right now. She sat, stunned, still checking Buffy, then Willow. Both seemed OK, other than being out cold.  
  
Suddenly, Buffy's eyes shot open as if awaking from a nightmare.  
  
"Buffy?" Tara whispered, rubbing her hand.  
  
"Tara?" she replied quietly. "What happened? Where's my baby?"  
  
"The nurse has her."  
  
"Is she?"  
  
"Fine," Tara said softly, squeezing Buffy's hand. Buffy went slack against the bed. "She's beautiful Buffy. You're a mom!" Tara was grinning ear to ear.  
  
Buffy smiled. "I'm glad," she said so softly that Tara could barely hear her.  
  
*****  
  
It had taken a while to clean them up and rouse Willow. The witch woke up looking all the world like a hungover sorority girl, but she seemed all right. They managed to bundle the baby into clean blankets, administer shots, get Buffy sorted out, cleaned up and into a robe, which proved to be a challenge considering Buffy's body seemed to have the consistency of spaghetti. When Tara finally left the room, the nurse and Willow had propped Buffy up on pillows and given her the little girl. She cried. All of them did. But Tara knew she had to go. She had something still to do.  
  
It was almost surreal walking into the hall. She thought she saw Giles and Xander there, but her head was buzzing and she felt as if she had a  
  
complicated speech committed to memory and if she spoke or thought anything before she spit it out, she might forget. Tara floated to the staircase and began her descent.  
  
*****  
  
Spike sat on the couch, his leg twitching against the table, twirling Dawn's hair between his fingers. She had cried herself out and was asleep with her head pressed against the outside of his thigh. The screaming had stopped. Everything had stopped a long time ago. Seemed like a hundred years.  
  
"Spike?" He looked up from the magazine he had been toying with. Dawn  
  
didn't budge. His arm was draped over the girl as if he were still  
  
comforting her in sleep.  
  
Tara was standing at the foot of the stairs. Spike gently disentangled  
  
himself from Dawn and walked over to the landing. It was so very silent.  
  
"Is she?" he whispered. He was terrified she had not made it. That  
  
neither of him had made it. It shouldn't be this quiet.  
  
Tara reached out to him and touched his hand. He could feel the sting in the back of his eyes as the tears pushed against them, begging to come out. They were dead. He knew they were. Tara smiled at him softly, abandoning her long speech. "It's a girl," she said taking Spike's hand and pulling him up the stairs toward the bedroom. Relief and a new kind of fear washed over him as he walked behind Tara. But good fear. Excitement fear.  
  
Xander was standing outside the door, pressed against the door jam. Giles was sitting like a rag doll against the opposite wall. It wasn't right that anyone else went in before Spike. Xander glared at the Vampire briefly, but let them pass without incident.  
  
"Tara, wait," Spike said, just before her hand reached the doorknob. "Does she even...want.. to see me?"  
  
Tara smiled reassuringly. "She has been asking for you."  
  
Spike stepped into the moonlit room. Buffy was lying there, so tiny and  
  
weak. Willow was sitting in a chair next to the bed, stroking the top of the child's head as Buffy held her in her arms. The nurse was leaned  
  
against the windowsill, a pleased, motherly smile on her round cheeks.  
  
It was so surreal to Spike. This was never supposed to happen. And he  
  
never thought he could be so moved. For whatever reason, he thought he  
  
would break down into sobs. The part of him that was human made this. And all of him would love and protect them.  
  
Willow got up from the chair and took Tara's hand. As they left, Spike  
  
turned to them. "Thank you," he said, at an unusual loss for words. Both women smiled softly and left the room. The nurse began to collect her things, leaving only a clipboard out of her bag. Spike barely noticed the woman anymore. All he could see was Buffy and the girl.  
  
He sat down next to her on the bed. She did not talk, but she looked up  
  
from the baby at Spike. Her face was soft. No more anger. No more  
  
confusion. She had found her reason to live. He rested his hand on her  
  
arm, stroking it gently, staring down at her child. Their child. The tiny blue eyed girl in Buffy's arms that had fought everything to be here. Just like her parents. Fighters.  
  
Buffy's eyes were exhausted and teary. Spike touched her face with his hand and she closed her eyes, drinking him in. Slowly, wordlessly, she handed the baby to him and watched him take her so gently, so carefully. Spike stared at the little girl with the same love with which he looked at Buffy. He was no longer a monster. He had not been for a very long time.  
  
"You did well, Pet," Spike said, looking down at the child, then back to  
  
Buffy. He could hardly fight back his own emotion. Buffy watched him in awe. His face was a canvas painted with every expression at once. "What are you going to call her?"  
  
Buffy looked at Spike a moment. Losing herself in those beautiful blue  
  
eyes. "What was your mother's name, William?"  
  
Spike stared at her, his head cocked, amazed at what she was thinking. His face was so soft and so sweet that she thought her heart might burst. "Emma," he said, swallowing.  
  
"Emma Joyce," Buffy said touching his arm. "I like Summers," she said, "But the baby does have a father. I just don't happen to know his last name." She smiled, a sly grin playing on her lips. He couldn't help but be infected by it.  
  
"Windsor," he said, looking down at the baby again, leaning in and pressing his lips against her impossibly soft forehead.  
  
The nurse grabbed the last of her things and nodded softly at Buffy. She left the room wordlessly.  
  
"Spike?" Buffy whispered.  
  
"Yeah," he said, his voice starting to choke.  
  
"I know this is going to be hard for all of us. But I want you to know that I do love you."  
  
He was silent for a long moment. Slowly, he placed the baby back into the crook of her arm and stretched out next to her, burying his face in her hair, his arm wrapping around them both. "I know," he whispered, his voice finally breaking. A century of emotional escaping. " I do love you," he said softly. She closed her eyes and felt him there and for the first time, felt peace.  
  
To be contd. 


	21. Unity

Title: Unity (New Life- pt 21)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: Buffy and Spike are now parents. There are some major adjustments to make.  
  
Unity  
  
Buffy yawned, pulling herself up on her elbows. Her eyes were heavy and the room was still dark, but she could see the faint colours of the dawn seeping into her room. He was standing by the window, shoulder leaning against the frame, looking out at the purplish orange horizon. "Spike?" Her voice was quiet, but strong. Spike turned to face her, the baby snuggled into the crook of one elbow.  
  
"You're awake," he said quietly. "Thought I'd give you a little while  
  
longer," he continued, walking to the bed. "Seems she got a little fussy and I just thought..."  
  
"It's fine, Spike," Buffy answered. "She's yours too,"  
  
Spike wasn't quite sure what to say. The whole thing was so overwhelming. What he did know was that standing there, looking at the sunrise and holding his daughter, somehow felt... right. Slowly, he sat down next to Buffy on the bed. "Unfortunately, I don't think I am equipped to give her what she needs, " he said, handing her back to Buffy.  
  
"Ah," Buffy answered. "Yeah, I'm pretty hungry myself."  
  
"What do you want, Love?" he asked, sliding his palm against her cheek.  
  
She pressed her face against his hand, closed her eyes and felt his thumb trace her cheekbone. I could get used to this, she thought. She let her eyes flicker back open as her hunger began to seize control of her stomach.  
  
"Food," she answered, looking back at him. "Any food. Food flavored food."  
  
Spike chuckled. "I can probably manage something," he said, leaning in and kissing her cheek softly. She turned her face so her lips caught his. His warmth was so foreign to her, but his touch still melted her completely. "Be back in a bit, Pet." She nodded softly as he opened the door and let it click softly shut behind him.  
  
*****  
  
Spike walked down the stairs in a haze of exhaustion and happiness that he wasn't sure he had ever felt in his life. It had all come crashing in at once. His life. Buffy's. Emma's. It was terrifying and wonderful in the same instant.  
  
The living room had become a slumber party. Giles was asleep in his chair, head lolling sideways into the deep sides of the recliner. Anya and Xander were leaned against each other, propped along the wall as if they had frozen in time. Dawn and Tara were curled around each other like kitten and cat on the couch. It seemed everyone had found peace.  
  
All but one.  
  
Spike picked his way quietly through the living room to the kitchen. Willow sat alone at the counter, sipping at a steaming mug. She jumped at the sound of his boots against the linoleum.  
  
"S'alright, Red," he said quietly, making his way over to the fridge.  
  
"Scared me a little," she answered nervously. "Buffy hungry?" As she  
  
spoke, she stood, pulling her jacket off of the table next to her and  
  
stretching herself into it slowly.  
  
"Yeah," he answered, scanning the refrigerator then letting it swing shut in frustration. "Nothing worth eating round here tonight."  
  
"She likes peanut butter," Willow whispered, walking toward the kitchen  
  
door. "Second cupboard from the left. Middle shelf. Bread's on the  
  
counter."  
  
"Uh, thanks," Spike responded, grabbing a plate and rustling through the  
  
cabinets for the makings.  
  
"Don't think Giles had time to go shopping."  
  
"I'll take care of it," Spike answered with frost in his voice. He wasn't quite sure how, exactly, he planned on taking care of it. The realization hit him like a brick. Willow looked down, taking the tone as another indictment against her.  
  
Willow grabbed the doorknob, her face wracked with guilt and tears. "I..I'm going to go ahead and go now. I don't ... belong here." The door clicked open quietly.  
  
"Red, wait," Spike said, setting the jar of peanut butter and the knife  
  
back on the counter. He walked toward the door and she cringed a little. Not so much from him. It was the learned reaction of someone afraid of everything in the world. He came towards her still.  
  
"Wha..what? I know I need to go. I promise you I won't bother you  
  
anymore." Tears streamed down the girl's face.  
  
"You don't have to go," Spike said, gently taking her hand from the  
  
doorknob. He turned her hand over in his palm, noticing the jagged red  
  
scars across her wrist. His thumb traced the lines and he was shocked by the feelings of desperation and sadness that he felt just from touching her.  
  
Spike thought for a long moment. "Red," he began "Your debts are cleared  
  
with me."  
  
"But I....I killed you. And I hurt Buffy. And everyone else..."  
  
"Well, I can't pretend to speak for those wankers," Spike said, nodding into the living room, "but I've learned a bit bout forgiveness. God knows I didn't deserve it." Willow was shaking, still crying. It hurt Spike to even look at her. He knew where she was. He had felt that in the graveyard in hell. Somewhere, he had felt it always. "Red, you did wrong by me. But you just saved Buffy and my little girl. So we're even. You don't owe me a sodding red cent." Spike let go of Willow's hand and headed back towards the sandwiches. She stood still next to the door. Not moving to sit again, but not moving to leave either.  
  
"Want one?" Spike asked, " Mean, while I'm up..."  
  
"Nah," Willow answered, tentatively stepping toward the chair.  
  
"Little hungry myself," he noticed, patting his stomach and feeling the  
  
hunger spread through his veins. Not the hunger for spicy wings either.  
  
Guess some things never change. Willow must have noticed his look.  
  
"Blood?" the witch asked, quietly.  
  
"Think a little PB&J will tide me over," he answered, licking his fingers and closing the jar. Willow stepped back toward the door, pulling her jacket around her.  
  
"Where you going? Told you you are welcome to stay here," Spike said, as Willow grabbed the door again. The girl smiled faintly.  
  
  
  
"I'm just heading to the butcher shop. Owe you that much at least. I'm  
  
sure you don't really want to leave right now," Willow answered.  
  
"No," Spike answered. "I don't want to go anywhere. That'd be fine, Red. In the meantime, I think its you that needs to work on forgiving."  
  
Willow looked at Spike with tired eyes. As he walked from the room she  
  
thought to herself that she felt a little bit OK for the first time in a  
  
very long time. Funny thing is, the same thought occurred to Spike.  
  
*****  
  
The door opened softly. The lamp was glowing by the table, but a little bit of sun was starting to peak into the room. Buffy was sitting up, the baby resting in the crook of her right arm, a blanket pulled up to her neck. It took Spike a second to realize that it was breakfast time all around.  
  
He sat the plate on the table next to the bed. "Didn't tell me it was going to be a buffet," Spike joked. "No fair," he whispered, his breath blowing into her ear. She closed her eyes and hummed softly.  
  
"Not for a long time, Spike," she remarked, grabbing a sandwich with her  
  
free hand. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her, pressing his lips softly to hers instead. "OK, some time," she muttered, her mouth still against his. He kissed her again with a little more fire. "Short time," she whispered breathlessly, "Slayer healing short." Her mouth drowned in his, melting, searing, becoming one.  
  
Finally, he moved away, pushing the sandwich to her mouth. "Didn't want you to taste like peanut butter," he said as she took an enormous bite.  
  
"Oh, and you didn't?" she laughed, her mouth full. He sat down on the bed next to her. The baby shifted and gurgled then went back to her mission.  
  
"Good to see you laugh again, Pet," Spike commented, his hand fiddling with the edge of the blanket.  
  
"Good to be able to," she answered, polishing off the first sandwich in  
  
record time and grabbing the glass of water he had brought for her earlier.  
  
Now's as good a time as any, he thought.  
  
"I got... I brought you something, Love," Spike said softly, digging around in his pocket and grabbing hold of his past.  
  
"Prezzies?" she exclaimed, gleefully.  
  
"Got to be All.About.You.," he joked. She smirked at him. "But if you  
  
*must* know, yes." His hand was closed around it, clenched in a fist, held against her legs.  
  
"And?" she asked impatiently. "You know, presentation is half the..." Her words cut off as he opened his hand. She looked down at the beautiful, shiny ring and her heart stopped.  
  
"It's a moonstone," Spike said. "Was my mum's. Kept it round because.. I dunno... but I would say I was offering you the family jewels but seems to me you've had *those* since we met..."  
  
"Spike, I..." Buffy stuttered. What was he thinking? What did this mean? What was this supposed to mean?  
  
"Just trying to make an honest woman outta ya," he said in that patented  
  
Spike-is-being-snarky tone.  
  
Buffy stared at the ring. Reached out and turned it over in his palm and watched the light dance over it. The stone changed colours at every angle. It reminded her a little of his eyes. It was truly beautiful.  
  
But what did it mean?  
  
"Spike, I... I'm not sure... why you want to give me this," Buffy stuttered. " I mean, it must mean a lot to you if it was your mother's."  
  
"I'd like to think she'd approve," Spike answered, looking up as if she  
  
might just be there.  
  
"I'm not.." She was so torn. Half of her wanted to just take it and never question anything again. The other half was terrified of what it meant. She loved him. They were connected always through Emma. But there was so much still. So many questions. Details. Things to work through. Vampire. Breathing, heartbeat-y Vampire. Slayer. Mommy Slayer. Torn.  
  
"Buffy," Spike said, reading the confused look on her face. "The beauty of it is that you can take it any way you want to. That part's up to you whenever you suss it all out. I'm giving it to you as a promise. I promise to love you and that I'll keep loving you, God help me, until the world implodes." Buffy chuckled quietly. "I promise that I'll be there for you. For Emma. Always."  
  
"Every day," she whispered.  
  
"Every day," he repeated. "And I promised that no matter hard you push me, I won't leave."  
  
Buffy bit her lip. That was all she ever wanted, really. All she needed. She could feel the tears come streaming down her cheeks. And she could feel him raise his hand to her face and brush them away with more tenderness than her heart could bear.  
  
"Can you accept that, Love?" he asked her, his palm still cupped over her cheek.  
  
"Yes," Buffy answered, quietly. "Thank you." Spike kissed her nose gently, then settled back down on the bed next to her.  
  
"Well, give me a hand then," Spike said, all business. Buffy thought for a moment. She could shift around, as the baby was finished and sleeping quietly. But instead she stuck out her left hand.  
  
"It's free," she said, smiling slyly.  
  
"Ah, that it?" Spike responded, his heart nearly exploding with happiness.  
  
"I can always switch it later," Buffy said as he slid it on her ring finger. It sparkled and glowed in iridescent beauty as soon as it touched her skin. "But I won't," she mumbled under her breath.  
  
"What was that, Pet?" Spike asked, leaning in closer to her face.  
  
"Don't let it go to your bleached head," she quipped, just as his lips  
  
caught hers and melted her into him again. One.  
  
to be contd. 


	22. Epilogue - Prophesy Girl Revisited

Title: Epilogue - Prophesy Girl Revisited (New Life- final chapter)  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Feedback: Yes, please  
  
Thank yous: Thanks to Elizabeth, my wonderful beta. And I cannot thank those of you who have read this story enough for your time, interest and feedback. Please feel free to contact me with opinions, ideas, feedback and the like. I can only hope that you enjoyed reading this even half as much as I have enjoyed writing it.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.  
  
Summary: It is a month later. How are the new parents coping? Giles comes back to town to deliver some news to Buffy and Spike.  
  
Prophesy Girl Revisited  
  
"Ah! Buffy, what did you feed this girl?" Spike called in disgust, fanning this face with one hand. He managed to pull the diaper off, clean the little wriggling girl up and redress her without heaving. It was getting easier.  
  
"What are you whining about?" Buffy asked, coming into Emma's room, shrugging a cardigan onto her shoulders.  
  
"I think that stuff's toxic," Spike commented, picking up the baby under her arms and pulling her against his chest. Buffy had to smile.  
  
"So, you're saying I'm toxic?" Buffy asked, fiddling with Emma's clothes, pulling them down and stretching onto her toes to kiss the little girl's head.  
  
"Are to me," he answered, pulling Buffy to him with his free hand and kissing her softly. Her knees went weak at even the slightest brush against her.  
  
"All that nasty anti-big bad toxin," she whispered against his lips.  
  
"Horrible stuff," Spike commented, kissing her again. He heard the door open downstairs, not that that was unusual at Grand Central Station West.  
  
"Buffy, Giles is here!" Dawn screeched.  
  
"Be right down!" Buffy called back.  
  
"So why'd the old man come all the way back again?" Spike asked as Buffy took Emma back gently.  
  
" He said it was face to face kinda stuff," Buffy answered starting for the door.  
  
To Spike, that couldn't be good. Giles had left for England at the request of the Council only a week after Emma was born. It was now close to a month since he had left and he calls out of the blue one day and shows up the next? Spike did not like the gnawing feeling at the base of his skull.  
  
"You coming?" Buffy asked, standing in the hallway.  
  
"Yeah," he answered, hesitantly, then following her out the door.  
  
*****  
  
"Giles!" Buffy bubbled as she reached the bottom step. The Watcher looked harried and a bit jet lagged, but managed a decent smile for his charge. She looks wonderful, he thought. Slayer healing seemed to work on every level. Not only was she back to normal size, at least the size when they met, not the sickly gauntness that stuck to her after her resurrection, but her eyes sparkled and her skin glowed and her hair was longer and shiny.  
  
She was beautiful inside and out.  
  
"Buffy," he whispered, hugging her gently. "Hello again, Emma," he continued, leaning down and kissing the baby's forehead.  
  
"Watcher," Spike said from the stairs. The gnawing was getting louder in his head.  
  
"Hello, Spike," Giles said, extending his hand. Spike looked at him for a moment, then shook politely.  
  
"Well, my time is a bit limited, so shall we sit and talk?" the Watcher said, clutching the handle of a tattered, brown briefcase between his hands.  
  
'Sure. Sit," Buffy replied, walking into the living room. Dawn was stretched out on the floor doing homework. She'd been doing a lot more of that since Spike came back. Dawn didn't get away with much. He had the authority that Buffy had lacked. Not to say they never clashed, but Spike had become the master of teenage compromise and Dawn had met her match.  
  
Buffy settled on the couch with Emma and Spike slid in next to her. Giles pulled a dining room chair to the opposite side of the coffee table, directly across from the pair.  
  
"So, to what do we owe the special visit?" Spike asked, his mistrust of the situation evident in his tone.  
  
"Well," Giles began,"as you know, the Council called me back regarding the file that Jenny had been working on when...."  
  
"Yeah," Buffy interrupted, avoiding making him say it aloud. "So, what's up?"  
  
Emma began to fuss and make small noises, wriggling around in Buffy's arms. She rocked the baby almost imperceptibly. Giles pulled out a stack of papers from the briefcase and set them neatly on the table in front of Buffy. She tried to lean forward to inspect them, but Emma burst into a wailing cry.  
  
"Nibs?" Spike said, taking the baby and freeing Buffy to look at the stack.  
  
"Got it," Dawn replied, popping up and heading to the kitchen. Spike distracted Emma by tickling her mercilessly until she was a gurgling plaything on his lap.  
  
"Can I get the Cliff Notes?" Buffy asked, glancing over at the little girl now happily lying on Spike's legs. He seemed to have that calming effect on all the Summer's girls.  
  
"Maybe just the highlights, Rupert," Spike said, never looking up from the little girl. Dawn bounced back in with a bottle and Spike coerced it into the baby's mouth like he had been doing it all his life.  
  
"I would like to say there is good news and bad news, but I really can't," Giles stated. "Mostly because it is all in your perception."  
  
"Get to the point, much?" Buffy quipped, smiling and leaning forward, her elbows pressed to her knees.  
  
"Right," Giles said. " A little background. This file is wildly speculative. Much of it is simply conjecture. Very little can be categorized as prophesy. Jenny seemed to have started in the middle. The text itself is ancient, written in an extinct African dialect that resembles later European runes..."  
  
"Never liked History, " Buffy interrupted, all business. "What is it about?"  
  
"Curious bout that myself," Spiked chimed in, stroking Emma's cheeks as she happily chowed down. The girl had her mother's appetite.  
  
"The 'highlights', right. Well, the important part is that the first Slayer was called as a result of the first Vampire's attempt at colonization of a small African village. That much we had suspected. But what we had *not* known is that they were connected."  
  
"Connected, how?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Remember, Buffy, this is countless centuries ago. The connection is not spelled out either. Prophesies are always somewhat of a riddle. But it was a blood tie. The text describes them as if they were two sides of the same person. The same soul divided in two. It seems open to interpretation. We could take it literally, or possibly assume they were siblings, even twins."  
  
"That's a little....gross," Buffy said, looking over at Spike.  
  
"Centuries ago," Giles repeated. "To continue, the lines then diverged radically. The Vampires becoming more and more dark and demonic. The Slayers becoming more and more nobel and light."  
  
"I'm nobel and light," Buffy beamed, pushing Spike's knee. He rolled his eyes at her.  
  
"Oh, *please*," Dawn chimed from the floor across the room.  
  
"Do your homework," Buffy snapped cheerfully. At least she didn't make me leave the room, Dawn thought.  
  
"The prophesy then states that there would come a Slayer, who, through her own death, would learn to accept the darkness and even embrace it."  
  
"Oh," Buffy whispered. Spike smirked at her. "So, they knew I would die? Not to mention come back?"  
  
"Seems to be the case," Giles answered. "It goes on to say that there would come a Vampire who's heart moved him toward the light. One who would betray his breed and who's devotion would bring him back to life."  
  
"Who's light now, Pet?" Spike commented, tossing a towel over his shoulder and lifting the baby. He had long ago learned not to wear the duster around Emma. Leather and babies - never the twain shall meet.  
  
"In the middle, they would meet," Giles continued, " and they would be chosen to bring Peace into the world. The lines again converge in a child born of the Slayer, fathered by the Vampire. And that child shall be Peace."  
  
"Emma?" Buffy muttered, suddenly not feeling so amused by the prophetic riddles. "No, not this."  
  
Giles swallowed. "The child is a Chosen One."  
  
"Slayer?" Buffy asked, her face feeling tight. Her eyes beginning to burn.  
  
"No," Giles answered. "The girl will bring peace between the worlds, unite man and beast. End the wars. Link monster and man...."  
  
"The Peacemaker," Spike said, under his breath.  
  
"The Peace....Spike you saw her too?" Buffy had refused to discuss what had happened to her in hell. They had never spoken of the that night again.  
  
"Yes, Pet," he answered. "She helped me escape from..."  
  
"Me too," Buffy interrupted.  
  
"She's Emma? Emma's her?" Spike asked, completely confused as to why it hadn't occurred to him before.  
  
"Yes... to both," Giles replied.  
  
"So, is she human? Or is she demon?" Buffy asked, trying to grapple with the concept in her tired mind.  
  
"Neither, really. Or both." Buffy looked at her Watcher in utter confusion. "She is human in form, but in function... we don't know exactly. We haven't quite..."  
  
"Go on," Spike said, his eyes beginning to burn holes in Giles' mind.  
  
"We haven't figured it out."  
  
"Is there more that you *do* know?" Spike asked, his anger beginning to rise.  
  
"And the Slayer will be her protector, the Vampire her champion, and together they will lead her to her destiny."  
  
Buffy sat back hard on the couch. Spike grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "Is that all you know?" Buffy muttered.  
  
"There is much more," Giles responded, "but we haven't finished translating." He paused for a long while. "There will be... people... demons... who would never see her succeed," Giles said, pulling off his glasses and wiping them in that familiar, nervous gesture.  
  
"Do we know *who*?" Spike asked, one hand in Buffy's, the other on Emma's back.  
  
"Not yet."  
  
"Well, I suggest you find out," Spike snapped, defensively.  
  
Giles twitched, thinking about firing back, but looked at them for a moment. He would have felt the same way had it been Buffy. Urgency. Fear. "I assure you, I will."  
  
"So, what do we do?" Buffy asked, a tear escaping. She brushed it away in frustration.  
  
"All I can say is to protect her. Which is what you would do anyway. She's your daughter. Raise her," Giles answered.  
  
"Will you help us.." Buffy began, starting to cry in earnest, " help us figure out who... when... " she asked, lifting the baby from Spike and clutching the child close to her chest. Spike pulled Buffy back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.  
  
"Of course, Buffy," Giles answered, "but I have to go back to England. I don't trust the Council to do this correctly." Spike nodded, sharing his distrust. "But I do have a little positive news," Giles continued, placing the papers back into the briefcase.  
  
"What's that?" Spike asked, holding Buffy closer. Any news right now was liable to send her over the edge.  
  
"The Council has decided to let me remain Buffy's watcher. In my absence, Spike, I imagine..."  
  
"Right," Spike answered, nodding.  
  
"However, I have tried to convince the Council to provide Buffy with a stipend as she is the only Slayer to have reached adulthood..."  
  
"The big proverbial *but*?" Buffy remarked.  
  
"They declined."  
  
"Not really good news," Buffy muttered.  
  
"However, considering the importance, in certain circles, of Emma, they *have* agreed to pay you both as Emma's protectors. Fairly handsomely, I might add." Spike raised an eyebrow.  
  
"The Council. Pay me? Ha!" Spike laughed.  
  
"You are doing them a service," Giles responded, dropping an envelope on the coffee table.  
  
"You did this?" Buffy asked. Giles did not respond. "Thank you."  
  
Giles, nodded, standing. " I have to go."  
  
"Now?" Buffy asked, pulling away from Spike and standing. Spike stood behind her, his hands on her hips. He felt as if she might topple down from carrying the world around on her shoulders.  
  
"The information I have is very sensitive. I left the Council without notice. It is best if no one knows this. At least, the fewer the better. The threat could be right under our noses." Buffy was shaking now. Spike moved in closer behind her until her back was pressed hard to his chest.  
  
" I can't... I can't do this. I can't watch her go through this..." Buffy sputtered, the tears starting again.  
  
"I'm afraid there's no choice," Giles replied, his eyes dropping to the floor. "You, of all people, should understand that."  
  
"It doesn't make it any easier," Buffy replied, fear and anger creeping into her voice. " And it's not like I've been relieved of duty to do this."  
  
" I know, Buffy," Giles responded quietly.  
  
"You're not alone, Pet," Spike whispered, leaning his head down so that his mouth was next to her ear. He brushed the hair from her face. "Can't change it. You know that. We'll just have to do out jobs. Live our lives. It'll be alright."  
  
Buffy spun, looking up at Spike with wet and fearful eyes. "This is *not* alright," she cried. "Look at what it did to me. What it did to my family, my friends. That's not alright. People... things... will try to kill our daughter. You're OK with that?"  
  
Spike clenched his fists. He wanted to lash back. To verbally punch her for even imagining that he thought any of it was OK. That he was content knowing his little girl was someone's prey. But it wasn't anger in Buffy's voice, in her face. It was fear. Spike took a deep breath and let his hands uncurl. "No, Love. It's not right. It's not fair. Not to you, nor to Emma, nor to me, nor Giles, nor Niblet. But it *is*, Pet. So we, all of us, protect her. Do you honestly think I would let anything happen to my little girl?" He was stroking Emma's head softly. "Honestly, Buffy?"  
  
Buffy shook her head. Tears still streaming down her cheeks. "Do you think you would let anything happen to her?' he asked. She shook her head again. "Right, then," Spike continued," we just have to make it alright. Letting it be a sodding train wreck would be the real crime against her." Buffy was silent. His eyes were making her dizzy.  
  
"Buffy, try to see the positive in this," Giles said. Buffy turned back to face him. "When she is older, it won't be her job to fight, but rather to stop the fighting. To orchestrate peace. She will render Slayers unnecessary and you can rest. Emma is the one that can make all of the unpleasantries just... stop."  
  
" I would fight until I died to save her from this," Buffy snarled.  
  
" I know," Giles answered. "But we must accept it and most importantly, you must let her be a child. I know it will be hard, but in your zeal to protect her, don't forget she is a little girl."  
  
"I know," Buffy said, clutching the child closer. Emma was sleeping soundly against Buffy's chest. Dawn came over, wrapping her arms around her sister.  
  
"I'll help," she said quietly. Spike squeezed Dawn's shoulder, tenderly.  
  
"I'd best be off," Giles said, looking sadly at Buffy. He touched her arm and turned to go.  
  
"Watcher?" Spike called, tailing him to the door. "Walk to the car?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Goodbye Buffy, Dawn, Emma," the Watcher said softly.  
  
"Bye," Dawn replied. Buffy nodded, silent.  
  
*****  
  
"You sure bout all this, mate?" Spike asked as they strolled down the walk.  
  
"Well, as sure as prophesy ever is."  
  
"Have you told us everything?" Spike asked. He never would trust the Council, although Giles was a decent bloke.  
  
"Everything I know."  
  
Spike was quiet. They had reached the car. "Promise me something, Rupert"  
  
Giles looked at the Vampire for a second and saw Buffy's fears echoing in his blue eyes. "What is that?"  
  
"That you'll figure this out, or find someone who can. I need to know more. I need to know who wants her..."  
  
"I promise," Giles answered. "I won't rest until I do."  
  
"Nor will I," Spike replied, shutting the door behind the Watcher.  
  
Spike stood, watching, until the car disappeared around the corner, then headed back up the walkway to the house. Buffy stood in the doorway, the porch light making her look like a Seraphim to Spike. He walked to her and studied her face for what felt like eternity. Spike took her free hand, toying with her fingers. "You know you're not alone."  
  
"I know," she answered, convincingly.  
  
"You know that I love you," Spike said, coming closer. The baby was still tight against her chest. "Always."  
  
"Every day," she whispered.  
  
"Every day," he repeated. "We'll make do."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Trust me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good."  
  
*****  
  
The blue sedan clicked silent, stopping a few houses down from the Revello drive address. He had watched the Vampire and the Councilman talking at the car. The red glow of his cigarette brightened as he inhaled, then blew a plume of dark smoke out the cracked driver window.  
  
The Vampire had walked to the house with such purpose. Ah, the Slayer. Pretty little thing. Don't blame the demon for being so traitorous in going after that. The sandy haired man in the grey silk suit took another long drag, watching the tenderness with which the Vampire touched her. The sweet, soft expression on the Slayer's face.  
  
Then he saw *her*.  
  
The vinyl of the car seat crackled as the sandy haired man leaned forward, squinting at the scene on the porch. Encircled by the pair was a tiny baby girl.  
  
The prize.  
  
Let the games begin....  
  
  
  
  
  
End book two 


End file.
